


Crisis

by HotaruGFC (JaclynGFC)



Series: Black Rose [5]
Category: Black Clover - 田畠裕基 | Tabata Yuki
Genre: F/M, Gen, Major Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-06-19 20:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15517683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaclynGFC/pseuds/HotaruGFC
Summary: Spoilers for current arc.Bad stuff is going down. Yami does what he can to help despite everything, only to get more bad news.





	1. Ch 1

The Wizard King was dead.

His body--lifeless; His grimoire--lost to time.

Yami stared at the corpse at his feet and looked at the spot where William had once stood. No, not William, he thought. But who it was did not matter now. All he know was he was going to kill him. He looked back at Julius' lifeless form. Sheathing his sword, he hefted the body of the man who had been his mentor, his friend, his brother. Over the years, despite the differences in their station, their age, their demeanor, the pair had somehow become a family. Julius had trusted him when no other would give him the time of day--had trusted him to have his back, to follow his lead, to be his sword. Yami had willingly been all of those things for him, because he loved him--not in some silly romantic way, but in a way that shredded his soul as he carried the body down from the roof.

Marx pulled up short as he saw, looking from the body to Yami's face and back again. He called for medics, for a stretcher. But Yami knew they would do no good.

"What happened?"

Yami could not answer; he could not speak. If he opened his mouth, he did not know what would come out of it. He did now if he was scream or cry or curse or perhaps all three.

The medics lifted the weight of his burden from him as Marx asked again.

"Yami, what happened?"

He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to block out the images which overlapped the real world, to keep them from playing over and over in his mind. Behind his closed lids, the memories only grew more distinct.

He shook his head.

"Yami, I need to know what happened. May I?"

He looked at Marx as he readied a spell. He knew the mind mage was asking to invade his mind, to see first hand what he had seen. He nodded, though he felt Marx was not ready to see. He turned to see the medics trying to cast healing spells on the corpse, doing all they could to save him, though Yami knew it was hopeless. He heard Marx gasp as he watched the scene which had played within Yami's memory a thousand times in the few minutes since it had happened.

"So he really is gone." Marx said, standing next to Yami as they watched the medics make the declaration. Yami nodded before looking at the short assistant. Marx had tears streaming down his face. He wiped his cheeks fiercely and took a deep breath.

"Time for grieving is later. We have a crisis on our hands."

Marx looked up to Yami and began rattling details of the reports which had been incoming. Yami could hear his voice speaking to him, but he could not make out what the other man was saying.

Julius was dead.

And Yami did not know what to do.

"Yami? Yami!" His name came to him from a distance and he realized Marx was trying to get his attention. He blinked as he looked at him. "Your orders, Sir?"

"What?" He had heard what Marx said, but did not comprehend what was being asked of him.

"Your orders. You are the ranking Magic Knight in the capital, Sir."

Yami sighed, blowing a cloud of smoke out on the breath.

"Fuck."

Marx raised his eyebrows at his new, interim boss.

"The Knights need a leader or the kingdom will be in chaos. Isn't that what he said?" Yami thought back to the time Julius had told him and William—that traitorous bastard, he was being appointed as the new Wizard King, when he told them of his plans to create two new squads, one for each of them. Sometimes the man had been crazy in his obsession with magic, but other times, he was the most devoted and serious minded man Yami had ever met. At least when it came to doing right by the Knights and the people they protected.

Marx watched him as he took deep inhale on his cigarette.

"Alright, then. Let's get to work." Yami said. His grief would have to wait. He walked down the hallway, following the path the medics had taken as they carried out Julius' body.

Marx stood looking at him in shock for a moment before hurrying after him.

When they reached a junction, they watched the stretcher bearing the corpse disappear down the hallway for a moment before turning down another corridor and entering into a large conference room.

Mages were casting communication spells and using magical artifacts to ascertain the status of the various Magic Knight Squads, the Royal Knights, and towns across the realms. Yami had seen the organized chaos before, when the kingdom was under attack from both the Diamond and Spade Kingdoms. The offensive had been a two-pronged coordinated affair which had come out of nowhere. The chaos at the time was similar in its mechanics, but this time it felt completely different. One mage was collating the information as it came in.

"The Royal Knights are not responding."

"Golden Dawn has fractured. Only a handful of members are accounted for, as well as some of the staff. They are terrified and need help."

"Reports of a combatant in Purple Orca robes attacking one of the northern villages."

"I'm getting something from Coral Peacocks. Dissension in the ranks. Headquarters under attack by three of their members."

Yami watched as the information was added to a map of the kingdom. Whatever had happened, it seemed to have happened everywhere at once. He tried to find some pattern in the information. He felt helpless staring at the numbers pinpointed on the map. Such interpretations had never been his forte, no matter how much Julius had tried to teach him.

He shook his head and looked around the room at all of the mages working hard. A few of them were Magic Knights, but the majority were people handpicked by Julius for the job to coordinating defenses.

But how can you defend against something like this? he thought.

"Sir, you should tell them." Marx's voice was small, nearly smothered by the din of the room. Yami felt a weight crushing against his chest. He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Listen up." He tried to sound confident, firm, sure of himself, but he felt as if his voice betrayed him. The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward him. The crushing feeling intensified under the weight of their stares.

"Julius is dead." Saying the words made his body go weak. He placed a hand on Marx's shoulder to avoid collapsing to the ground. Looking in their troubled, horrified faces, he knew Marx was right, Julius was right. The people needed a leader. He wondered, however, if he had the strength to become one, to inspire with his words, to set an example with his actions.

"The Wizard King fell to the hand of one of our own. I am sure all of you witnessed at least some of the battle. Julius fell because he did everything he could to protect us. It is up to us now to protect the kingdom. Noble, commoner, peasant. They all have a place; they all have worth; they all have value." Words flowed up of him as if he had been entranced and another was using his voice to speak. 

"The three leaves of the clover represent good faith, hope and love, but they represent so much more. They call to mind our friends, our families, our loved ones tied not by blood, but by our actions. They show how strong we can be when we come together. We all know the story of the first Wizard King, standing alone against the darkness. But I say he was not alone, just as we are not alone. Yes, Julius is gone. But Julius was not a lone hero, nor did he ever pretend he was. Julius always believed in the power of any one person, no matter who they were, even a foreigner like myself, to do good, to protect, to live by these ideals: Faith, Hope, and Love. He always believed in the people of this kingdom, that they would stand together against any darkness. And so we shall. Now is not the time for grief. Now is the time to stand and fight to protect what we believe in."

The gathered mages stared at him in silence. Some wiped tears from their eyes. Some nodded their heads. A sob escaped from the far side of the room.

"Now, get back to work. We need to figure out how to stop this."

Yami's shoulders sagged.

"He was right to choose you."

"The hell you're talking about?"

Marx smiled a melancholy smile. Before he could answer, a commotion could be heard in the hall behind them. Yami rushed out of the room toward the sound. A group of guardian mages fought each other. One of the contingent had turned on the others. 

As Yami moved in to stop the defector, he noticed how the young woman had changed. Her face was tattooed, reminding him of the beast man they had fought in the Underwater Temple. Her ears stuck out in points through her hair. And her mana pool had drastically increase.

"Pathetic humans, you think you can stop me, stop us?" she laughed as she launched a magical attack on her former comrades. Yami moved quickly and intercepted the attack, slashing through the blast, relying on his dark magic to absorb the brunt of its force.

"Get him inside." He told the other guards as he noticed the injuries on one of them. His eyes never left the young woman. She threw another blast at him, which he deflected with ease as the three other guards escaped down the hall into the conference room turned communications station.

"I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to." He told her.

"I'd like to see you try." She spat at him before launching a long range attack, and then herself, at him. He dodged the attack, and it destroyed the wall behind him, opening the room to the fight. Collateral damage, he thought, realizing he had to end the fight quickly before others got hurt. Reading her movements, he knew she was no close range fighter; her body was not trained for it, no matter what the spirit possessing her might want it to be. He brought his sword around in a wide slash and then shifted his grip and brought it down on her where her neck met her shoulder. The tip of the blade, and by extension, the dark magic cloaking it, sliced through her from neck to navel.

She coughed blood and staggered a bit. The hatred in her eyes cleared, the marking on her face faded.

"Thank you." she whispered as the light went out of her eyes.

He wiped the blood from his blade as she fell. Sheathing his sword, he clasped his hands together and bowed his head for a moment, honoring the spirit of the fallen woman, and cursing the loss of life and a future cut short.

When he walked back into the room, the list of incidents similar to the one he just faced had tripled.

"What the hell is going on?" He asked, no longer hearing the details of each report. He scanned the map, now glowing with spikes marking the terrorist activity. The spikes seemed to close in on the capital.

A familiar voice caught his attention.

"Yami?" Nozel looked confused as he entered the room. He turned and looked at the gaping hole in the wall before turning back to his fellow captain.

"What are you doing here? I thought you all were trying to take out that terrorist stronghold."

"Where's Julius?" The captain of the Silver Eagles demanded

Yami closed his eyes and took a deep breath, blowing smoke out on the exhale.

"Julius didn't make it."

"Don't tell me he turned." Nozel asked, shock and fear plainly evident on his face. Yami shook his head.

"No. William killed him. What do you mean, 'turned'?"

"William? Are you sure?"

"I saw it with my own eyes. But I think William was possessed by something. It felt like William, like his ki, but he was using light magic... Like that other asshole."

Nozel's face blanched.

"What is it?"

"He wasn't possessed; he was taken over."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that what possessed means?"

Nozel shook his head.

"The Eye of the Midnight Sun, they triggered some powerful, forbidden magic, magic which resurrected the souls of a long dead race of beings into human form. Elves they called themselves."

"That must have been what they needed the magic stones for."

"Magic stones?"

"Never mind." He looked at the ever growing list of reports of people killed, or turned, of entire villages wiped out. "We have to get out there. Protect the people."

"Sir," Marx pipped up. "Someone needs to guard the King."

Yami sighed and looked over at Nozel as he did the same.

"You figure out the King situation, Mr. Royalty. I'll worry about the people in the city."

Nozel started to protest when a distress call came cutting through all of the other chatter, magically enhanced by the sender to garner as much attention as possible.

"This is Anais Lemule of the Blue Rose Squad calling for anyone. We need help. Something's happened. People are going crazy. The Captain, she..." The young woman screamed and then choked and gasped until there was silence.

Yami felt his blood run cold. He looked at Nozel, who was as white as his hair.

"Marx, where's Charlotte?" Yami's sense of dread only grew.

"What?"

"Where is Charlotte? Was she sent off on a mission or..."

"I, uh, I don't believe she had any official business. She should have been at her squad headquarters."

Yami shivered and tossed the butt of his cigarette on the floor. Julius would have reprimanded him for doing so.

"Well, shit."

"What's wrong?" Nozel asked.

"You've seen her magic, right? Corpse-hunting Briars?"

"Oh." Yami did not think Nozel could get any paler, but somehow he did. Worry turned Yami's stomach.

"Yeah." He took out a new cigarette and lit it as he considered the possible courses of action. He knew his duty was to the people, and he had every intention of fulfilling his duty. But Charlotte... 

She had woven herself into the core of his being. He could not abandon her to this madness.

"New plan. You coordinate things here, Birdman. I'm going to Blue Rose headquarters."

“Yami, wait!” Nozel called after him.

Yami stalked from the room and nearly ran into Noelle.

"Oh, you're here too. Noelle, I need you to do something for me."

She looked up at him with wide violet eyes. He could tell from her face she had seen more today than she had seen in her entire life.

"What is it, Captain?"

"Guard the people, Noelle. Protect them. At all costs." He hated asking her, knowing it might be the last order he ever gave her. But if anyone could protect them, it was the water princess. Her mana pool was as large as any as he had ever seen, and her defensive spells were second to none. She had grown up so much since her father had pawned her off on him.

"Of course." She nodded before scurrying away. Yami watched her go, Julius' last words echoing in his mind. He is right, Yami thought, the kids are going to be fine. He glanced back to Nozel, who had taken control of the war room and seemed to have matters in hand before he picked his way outside.

The capital was in chaos as he entered the streets. People ran scared from those who had been friends and family. He took no joy in his fight through the madness, taking down those possessed--or affected by the magic let loose by the Eye of the Midnight Sun. Whatever. Frankly, he didn't see the difference. He had thought about flying, but it would have been too slow. He made his way to the hospital, fighting every step of the way.

When he arrived at the massive building, he found Finral asleep in bed. Supposedly, he was still healing.

"Wake up, you cowardly son of a bitch."

Finral's eyes fluttered open and took a moment to focus on Yami. When he did, he stared at the blood splattered blade in his captain's hand.

"Captain? What?" Screams and the sound of spells firing echoed in the distance. "What's going on?"

"You up for a trip?"

"I, I guess so? Where'd the pretty nurse who was taking care of me go?"

"Is that why you're still here? Unbelievable." Yami shakes his head. "Come on."

"Or what? You're going to kill me?"

"No. I'll leave that to the crazy people."

Finral looked at him, stunned for a moment before he pulled on his boots.

"Where are we going?"

"Blue Rose headquarters."

Finral noticed the determined set to Yami's jaw and how he paced and kept shifting his grip on the katana's hilt. Finral picked up his belt, fastened it around his waist and pulled his grimoire from the pouch on it. He looked around one last time to see if he could spot the nurse who had kept him company so often, but she was no where to be found. He opened a portal and followed Yami through.

They stepped out of the portal into hell.


	2. Ch 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chasing Charlotte

When they stepped out of the portal, Yami heard Finral gasp. His own heart sank as he looked at the building which had once housed the Blue Rose squad. Or at least as he looked where it should have been. What stood in its stead was a massive thicket of thorns, the likes of which he had only seen once before. Then, he had been able to stop its growth before it walled off the city. This time, however, he saw no obvious path through.

"Oh, Charlotte. What have you done?" he muttered to himself as he drew his blade. He wished he had had the foresight to get an actual machete as he hacked through the brambles with his katana. But he had gone off half-cocked like usual, too worried to think things through.

Time seemed to crawl to a stop as he and Finral made their way, inch by inch, through the thicket. He didn't know exactly where he was going. He only knew she was in there somewhere. He could sense a large mana pool from deep within, not unlike the first time he had faced such a mass of thorns. Only this time, the power emanating from the center of the building was like nothing he had ever felt from her before.

And he knew it was her.

He couldn't explain how he knew, but he was certain down to the smallest fiber of his being she was the source of the mana he felt.

With every advancement they made into the thicket, Yami could feel the path closing behind them. She was either trapping them, or the vines had grown a mind of their own.

He couldn't think about that now; he had to get to her. He continued slicing through the thorns and pushing their way further into the base--through the wall and into the courtyard

"Sorry I'm not much help boss." Finral said as he pushed a thick thorny vine out of his way. It sprang back as soon as he released it.

Yami grunted as he continued to carve a path for them.

"You think you could go back and find someone who could help? Magna maybe?"

"I could try, but the trip here really drained me. I'm pretty sure I can get us out, but I don't know if I have three trips in me."

He hacked and hacked some more, cursing the briars. The damned things were formed from mana, called forth by her magic like Noelle called for water, or Luck called lightning. Despite their origin, though, they were real enough, thick enough to be a pain in the ass.

"Guess we're on our own then." He complained as he continued his way into the building.

After an eternity, Yami broke through the outer shell, having made a hole through the outer wall and into the gardens. He could see the stair leading up to the building's entrance as the thicket seemed to thin just a bit, letting more light through. The work was hard, though, and he was exhausted--drained physically and magically. He could sense she was still there, and hoped she would listen to reason when he got there. He hoped, for all their sake. He didn't know if he would have a fight in him after battling her thorns to get to her, and he sure as hell didn't know if he could fight her.

"What's that?" Finral asked as they walked up to the steps. The pale golden color of the sandstone blocks which had been used to build the structure had turned pink in places, red in others. Some spots still glistened with wetness.

"Blood." Yami wrinkled his nose as he searched the vines above and around them. Bodies dangled from the thorny vines like strange fruit. He swallowed hard as he scanned the corpses. Drops of fresh blood splattered on the steps before them.

Finral followed his captain's gaze and made a retching sound.

"There's dead people..."

"Blue Rose members." Yami focused once more on the door. He tread carefully up the blood-soaked steps. Nothing he could do for them now. He took a deep breath, smoke billowing out on the exhale. From the sound in the woman's voice in the distress signal, Yami had expected what they had found. He had seen the effects of her magic on the field of battle before. He knew what he would see. He was not prepared for the gut-wrenching feeling of seeing the vines filled with compatriots.

"How can you tell?" FInral hesitated to follow, but eventually skirted the most slick parts of the stairs as he decided he would rather be with Yami than surrounded by so much death.

Yami pointed up at one of them.

"She's still wearing her robe." The blue cloak fluttered in the slight breeze as if to emphasize his point.

"And you think Lady Charlotte could have done this?"

"She's the only one who could have." He looked more closely at the thorny vines wrapping the walls as they entered the main building. The seemed to writhe like snakes, ever reaching for the sun. Blooms of roses adorned them, as always, a deceptive beauty hiding the danger beneath, but the flowers seemed to have an identity crisis. The sky blue blossoms he knew were interspersed with flowers both blood red and a strange violet color. He touched one of the blue blooms; it was soft to the touch and a brilliant as her eyes. He took a deep breath and renewed his effort, cutting through the twisting vines threatening to entrap them.

"I've never seen so many colors on one plant before." Finral noted as he followed.

Yami stopped mid-swing and looked at the briars surrounding the walls. He raised his hand signalling for Finral to stop talking.

"Finral, do you feel that?" He asked after a moment.

"Feel what? I don't..." Finral followed his gaze to the wall of briars, which had stopped moving and growing. "I don't feel anything."

"Exactly. I was tracking a large mana pool up ahead. Now there's nothing. And the briars have stopped growing. She left."

Finral shivered.

"She killed them all, and she left." Yami wanted to vomit. He had never known Charlotte to be so ruthless, so vindictive. She may be aloof to most people, dismissive of men and a force to reckon with on the battle field, but she was nothing if not controlled, calm, and collected. Far more often than not, she had been the voice of reason among the captains, her and Fuegoleon. He could not imagine anything able to alter her so drastically she would turn on her own squad. She must be under the influence of the magic those terrorists unleashed. He had no other explanation.

They heard a noise through the thorns and turned to it simultaneously.

"Was that someone crying?" Finral asked, his hackles raised and body tense. The young man had the skittishness of a scared cat, Yami thought as he glanced back at him. Yami turned to the path the sound seemed to emanate from and crept toward it.

As he hacked back some of the thorny vines crossing their paths--the thicket was less matted inside the building, Finral rambled.

"That large mana concentration is gone, but I can feel... something down here. Man, I wish Luck were here..."

Yami tuned him out as he moved more quickly through the hallway. Since Charlotte had left, and the vines had stopped writhing with life, he no longer feared being attacked directly, or having their path suddenly cut off. He followed the faint trace of mana as he wove through the labyrinthine halls until he stopped short. Finral, who had been struggling to keep up, tripped over a thick vine and fell forward.

"Ow!" Finral cried as he landed heavily on the floor, unable to stop his forward momentum as Yami stepped to the side.

"It's gone."

"What?"

"The mana thread. It's gone." Yami's voice was somber. He didn't want to say it, but Finral looked at him without understanding. "Finral, take us back to the capital."

"But there might be survivors still." Finral argued, but he finally figured out the look on Yami's face and realized how hopeless a search would be. "Right." Finral stood and prepared the portal. Yami looked around at the roses blooming on the vines around them. He could not see a single blue one anywhere.

"Come on, Boss." Finral's voice broke his contemplation of the flowers. Yami could see the strain on the younger man's face and he hurried through the portal to the capital.

When they stepped foot into the city proper, Yami thought things had somehow gotten worse.

"What the hell is Nozel doing?" Yami looked around at a city in chaos. "Finral, can you get me up there?" He pointed to the roof of a building--a tall spire--some distance from their location. He knew Finral would normally have no trouble with the distance, but the spatial mage was still recovering, and he feared he may have pushed his abilities to the limit already.

Well, if he had, Yami thought, he would have to break through them, or else he would die in the fight.

Finral squinted at the spire in the distance.

"Yeah. Sure." He opened the portal. Yami clapped him on the back. The young man had grown a great deal in the last few months, Yami thought proudly.

"Go, do what you can to get the people to safety." Yami ordered before jumping into the void and landing on the top of a tall steeple of a chapel. His feet slipped beneath him until he found purchase on the steep roof.

The city was a mess. All over, buildings were burning or collapsed as magic flashed between combatants. He tried to block out the screams of panic. He would have to leave the scared and the helpless to others. He prayed there were others to take care of them.

He had bigger prey.

He scanned the scenes below looking for any sign of her magic.

There.

He spotted her briars rising from the ground, shredding buildings and bodies in one strike. He had never seen her so strong and so indifferent before. He launched himself in her general direction, praying his magic would hold out as he reinforced his natural athleticism to avoid injury. A pair of knights blocked his path--purple and coral, abandoning easier prey for him. Their magic lashed out at him and he drew his blade as he ran, slashing through the air, absorbing the spells launched at him and then knocking them out from behind. The kids they had been attacking before he drew their attention scurried off, disappearing into a building, and hopefully safety.

His defeat of the two other transformed knights had caught her attention. She turned to him, helmet-less, strange markings on her cheeks, her ears pointed now as the others had been.

"I see those two were worthless." Her eyes drifted to the two knights behind him. Her eyes held no recognition of him and he felt his bottom lip quiver before he clenched his jaw. He did not believe she was gone; he could not believe it.

"Give her back." his voice was low, dangerously soft. He shifted the blade in his hand.

"What?" The Charlotte that was not Charlotte chuckled, her lips turning up in a smirk.

"Give her back." He said with more force. He prepared his spells as he adjusted his stance. He did not want to hurt her, he could not hurt her. The risk was too great. But he had to stop her. He had to try.

"You seem to think I care about what you want, pathetic human. I will take vengeance for what your kind has done. And I will start with you."

"Give. Her. Back." He locked eyes with hers. They were still a blue as the sky, but they were giving him neither the icy glares he had grown so used to, nor the passionate glances he had only begun to explore. She stared him down with a strange sense of curiosity.

"Oh. I see." A wicked grin spread across her face, a hand rubbed over her belly. "You must be the father."

He froze to the spot, ready to strike, but unable to move. Her words had paralyzed him and he glared at her like a caged animal.

She must have sensed his hesitation as she sauntered toward him.

He had tried to keep the child she carried from his mind since the distress call came in from her squad. But he had not been able to keep the underlying worry from permeating his being. He had worried she had died in the attack, taking their child with her, and now he worried more that the monster before him would do something to harm her and the child.

He had never meant to grow so attached to someone he had never met, but in the weeks since she had told him, he had grown used to the idea. He even felt excited from time to time, and had permitted himself the small luxury of imagining them all together as a happy family. Perhaps, he thought, it was one luxury too many.

"I had thought about cutting your child from my belly when I woke, when I realized I was growing such a useless creature inside me. But there was too much to do first."

He saw her thorny vines creeping toward him, their large blood colored buds opening to full bloom.

"Plenty of time before the whelp would be born to end it after we eradicated you deplorable lot."

Closer she came.

Closer the vines crept.

The more rooted he felt. His hands were tied, his actions limited. He could not hurt her, could not strike like the last two. He could not risk it.

The more trapped she thought he was.

"But now. Now I think I will make you watch." Her briars rocketed toward him. He triggered his spell, swallowing the vines as they reached out for him in a series of black holes surrounding him.

"GIVE HER BACK TO ME!" He yelled, slashing at the ground at her feet, his dark magic breaking the cobblestone. She stumbled backward from the force. When she looked at him again, Yami saw a flicker of recognition before it disappeared behind an angry glare. Gone was the curiosity in her eyes. The monster controlling her looked at him with only hatred.

"No." She spat, as she sent her vines flying once more.

He sprang from his spot, pouncing like a cat finally attacking the prey it had been stalking. He sliced at the thorns she had sent after him, keeping his path unobstructed until he tackled her to the ground. Contain, control, disable, echoed through his head--old lessons from Julius on how one should approach any battle to minimize casualties.

Her briars moved quickly, far faster than he had remembered, reaching out for them both as her head slammed into the street beneath her. She seemed dazed by the impact, but only briefly as she once more looked up at him with fury, rage, and hatred.

"You'll have to do better than that."

Her briars grabbed him and pulled him from her.

Shit, he thought, realizing he had let his guard down. The thorns twisted into his skin, boring through his flesh as they suspended him in the air. He could barely touch the ground with the tips of his feet. Not enough to gain momentum for anything.

He was angry, furious with himself for not watching his back better.

"You were so focused on not hurting me that you let yourself get caught. Stupid human." She pulled herself up from the ground. Blood streaked her blond hair and trickled down her cheek. Her vines tightened around his body. He wanted to scream from the pain. He wanted to cry, to pass out. But he would not give her the satisfaction.

She walked up to him, a scant distance between them.

"Perhaps I should just do it now, kill you, and get this all over with."

He tried to struggle against his bindings. Her response was to tighten them more.

"You know, my aloof thorn princess, I just see this as a little foreplay." He struggled again, they tightened in response. He could feel the pressure of them on his chest, making his breath come short and ragged.

A slight flicker of recognition in her eyes. And he knew she was still in there.

"Then you are more deranged than I thought."

"You should..." He gasped for air as the vines continued to squeeze and cut into him. "You should let me show you how deranged I can be. Charlotte's always liked it a little rough."

An uncontrollable blush on her cheeks. She hated it when he would be so blunt, especially in public. Always said it embarrassed her. She stammered, much like Charlotte had in the cave when he had first asked her so crudely if she wanted to fuck.

He leaned forward and kissed her. The movement made the pain excruciating as the thorns tore his skin. He could barely brush her lips, but when he opened his eyes, her eyes were still closed, her face peaceful, as she was when she slept. The markings on her face had faded, not completely, but enough to make him think he was breaking through to her.

And she kissed him. She kissed him with passion, desperation, and fear. She caressed his face with her hands, pressed her forehead against his.

"Yami?" Her voice was tiny, soft, scared.

"What have I told you, Charlotte?" The vines loosened enough for him to breath, to move. He broke one hand free enough to brush her cheek. She chuckled and smiled despite the tears streaming down her face.

"I know; I know." She smiled at him.

"I love you, Charlotte."

Her eyes grew wide at the admission, and then they narrowed and her face grew hard.

Yami gasped. Pain blossomed in his gut. Looking down he saw a thick thorny vine connecting him to her hand. He looked back to her hard eyes--the eyes of the woman who was not Charlotte. She smirked.

"Humans know nothing of love, of attachment. You could never know the joy of such community, the peace your kind tore asunder."

He coughed and tasted blood.

"You're wrong." His vision started to blur. "Charlotte... I..."

He lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger... sorry, but not really. As mentioned before, this is a difficult, emotionally draining story to write, so I have to break it up. 
> 
> Also, I will be moving to a more defined posting schedule now that school is starting. I will post that on my profile when I figure out what it will be.


	3. Ch 3

Rewinding a bit...  
"A call just came in from Marx. There's an emergency in the capital." Charlotte tried to push her way of the office, but she seemed to have a steady stream of people coming in to ask her something, give a report, or whatever. She had just come off mission and wanted to relax for a moment but all of the details of the job had piled up while she had been away for a couple of days. And now this. Julius had never been one to call the captains together unless it was necessary. And Marx, well, he might be the face they all see when getting a summons, but he sounded genuinely terrified with whatever was going on."

"But Captain, if you don't sign off on these requests the kitchen will be out of food in three days." Papers were shoved into her face. She signed them with a sigh, not reading through the details. Who had time for that?

"Charlotte?" The second in command for the squad pushed through the crowd. "What's going on?" She too had heard the message. 

"I don't know."

"Want me to go instead? You just got back. You look exhausted."

Charlotte looked up at the woman who would likely succeed her if she was killed or retired from her position--though, Charlotte thought, the killed one was more likely. The offer tempted her.

"No, Mira. I need you to handle all of this here. I..."

A blinding light forced her eyes shut.

Charlotte felt a warmth surround her, cradle her in a way she only vaguely remembered, and only remembered now that she felt it again. It was the warmth of darkness, of the womb. A calm voice spoke to her, whispering caring, gentle things to her. Sometimes she could make out the words, sometimes she could not. Regardless, the voice always soothed her. She had a sense the voice was telling her to let go, that everything would be alright and she would not have to worry.

Between the whispers and the warmth, Charlotte drifted to sleep.

His voice jolted her awake. Yami? She thought. She felt groggy, confused as she looked around.

Fires burned around her. She could hear screams in the distance.

Something was wrong.

But the whisper was there still, with it's soothing feeling, telling her to sleep, to rest, that she had done enough. She believed the soft murmur—she felt so very tired--and she quickly drifted off once more.

His voice, once more sparked her awake. He had said something crude, she was certain, because she felt a flash of anger and embarrassment followed by a racing heartbeat. She could hear the whisper still trying to drag her under, like a rip current pulling the sand out from beneath her and dragging her out to sea. She fought to retort, to stay awake but failed.

She dreamed fretfully, struggling against the lullaby that seemed to echo within her, wrapping her in a cocoon of harsh whispers like the desperate scoldings of a parent angrily trying to get a willful child to sleep.

And suddenly, the whispers stopped.

Charlotte felt herself once more, complete in her own skin. His lips pressed against hers. Her eyes fluttered open taking in the sight of him before closing again as she kissed him in return. She wanted his arms around her, to have her body pressed against his, to take him into her. She had been lonely without him the last week or so since she had told him about the child within. She ran her hands over his face, wanting his hands on her, wondering why he had yet to pull her to him. She then realized he could not. She released the briars binding him

"Yami?" She could hardly believe he was with her. The sounds of fighting in the distance and the smell of smoke filled the air, disorienting her. She tried to look around, to find any recognizable landmarks. The last thing she remembered was being home, but now she was in the middle of the capital with blood staining her hands.

He tried talking to her, but all she wanted to do was to keep kissing him, to cover his body with her kisses, to have his kiss erase the indescribable sadness she felt, though she had no idea why.

He touched her cheek and she could not stop crying as she leaned into the light brush of his fingers against her.

"I love you, Charlotte." He gave her a lopsided smile and her heart stopped. She froze for a moment.

And in that moment she lost.

The whisper, which she had pushed as deep down as she could came back with a vengeance, howling through her mind like the cold winter wind through the tree tops. It screamed at her now, demanding she rest, demanding she sleep, or otherwise relinquish control like a desperate child throwing a temper tantrum. Charlotte felt the darkness wash over her in one last ditch effort. She was blinded by the sound as the whisper, or whatever was controlling it, cut off once more.

It lasted only a moment. But it was enough.

The blindness was gone, and the whispers fell silent as she pushed through the darkness within her soul.

When she opened her eyes to meet his, they were wide with shock and betrayal. His cigarette had fallen from his hand and blood dripped from the side of his mouth. He tried to say something, but his eyes slid shut, and his head lolled to the side before he could finish his thought.

"No." Her voice was a desperate whisper. Her heart froze as it had in the cavern when she had gone with Nozel and Jack and helped him against the Third Eye, when he had tried to attack their leader and stupidly put his trust in a boy with no magic. That attack was a near miss. This one had hit true.

"No." She shook her head, as she looked to the wound in his gut, filled with the vines of her magic. She could sense the briars as they pierced not only his skin but wound their way through his body like a second set of blood vessels. They wove through his body still, until she forced them to stop.

"Yami?" Her voice broke as she brushed her free hand through his hair and around to his chin. She could still feel his pulse, his mana, though she could also feel them weakening. She pressed her forehead against his.

"I love you, too." she whispered as tears finally broke through.

"Hey, you're back." His voice was barely audible above the sound of conflict in the surrounding city, but to her it was the only thing she could hear. She nodded, smiling through the tears that poured down her face.

"I'm sorry." She wanted to say more, but she had so many things she regretted now, she could not list them all.

He shook his head.

"Don't." He opened his eyes. She kissed him again. He sighed and leaned into her hand on his cheek.

"Not gonna lie. Hurts like hell." He smiled the best he could at her before coughing. Another rivulet of blood streaked his lips. She barked an unbelieving laugh as she ran her thumb over his bottom lip, wiping away the blood and spittle there. She wished she could wipe away what she had done so easily.

"Don't talk, you stupid, pathetic man." She pulled her eyes from him, ashamed of her tears, but not able to stop them. She looked desperately for someone, anyone who might be able to help him. She wanted to scream, to call out for help, but she did not think her voice would carry over the din of the fighting in the distance. The space around them was empty, evacuated during their battle.

"Charlotte." His voice was soft, more like a presence in her mind than actual sound. She did not want to look at him, to let him see her so desperate, to show her unbridled tears. "Charlotte." He said again, more insistent. His bourbon colored eyes were unfocused as he breathed with difficulty. She could see the pain plainly on his face. "Kiss me."

She shook her head.

"If I die, I want your lips to be the last thing I feel."

She scrunched up her face and shook her head again.

"No. I won't let you die."

"Might not be up to you." His eyes drifted closed again.

"Yami!" She shrieked, fearful he had left her. His eyes fluttered opened briefly and the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a smile for a moment. She searched again, wondering if she could move him to someplace less exposed. She felt she could not want to remove the briars from him; she feared doing so would kill him immediately. At least, with the vines spread throughout his body—and her magic holding them there like a plug, he was still alive. There was the hope of healing. 

A young woman appeared out of the smoke and dust, the long cloak of the royal knights--soiled and ripped from conflict, fluttering behind her as she picked her way over the field of battle. Her long fiery hair whipped behind her as she knelt next to the fallen. At the distance, Charlotte could not tell what she was doing, but she was the first person to take interest in those who had succumbed to the fighting. And the first one to make her way back into the space which had once been market square

"Hey!" Charlotte croaked, hoping her voice would carry through to the new arrival. She could hear the strain in her voice. She tried to turn and wave the young woman down, but as she moved, Yami winced, sucking in a pained breath, and the red stain on his shirt spread further. "Sorry." She looked back at his furrowed brow.

Charlotte called once more and sighed in relief when the young woman made her way to them.

"Oh my god." The teenage girl's eyes grew wide when she saw the wound on the Black Bulls' captain. "What happened?"

"Lover's quarrel." Yami replied, his voice raw with pain.

"Yami." Charlotte scolded, feeling color rise in her cheeks. "Stop talking." She turned to the girl, whom she now recognized as Fuegoleon and Mereoleona's cousin, and her brother was... Charlotte couldn't recall his name, but knew he was the vice-captain of the coral peacocks. She had not made it a priority to interact with them in general. "House Vermilion, right?"

The young woman nodded curtly, her wide eyes never leaving the thick stalk connecting the two of them. "Mimosa Vermilion, Captain."

"The healer from Golden Dawn."

"Yes. The Royal Knight's all went crazy, well most of them. When we got back here, everything was already insane. Nozel told me to see what I could do to help the survivors."

"Have you helped many?" Charlotte asked. She wondered how many survivors there would actually be when everything was said and done.

Mimosa shook her head.

"Well, maybe we can save this stubborn ass."

"You are too harsh, Princess Rose."

"Shut up."

Hearing the exchange, Mimosa looked from one adult to the other, wondering just how much of Captain Yami's early statement was true.

"I, I can try." She said, deciding to keep her curiosity to herself. She cloaked herself in her healing magic and placed her hands on the injured man. She gasped as the spell showed her the extent of his injuries. "Wow. This is..."

"It's bad, I know." Charlotte finished the thought for her. "I can feel them all. I've been able to stop them, but I can't remove them. Not without killing him."

"Yeah. I don't know if I can fix this. He may die regardless."

"Can't die. Not yet." His voice was quiet and hard to hear over the sounds of crackling fire and screaming in the distance. Charlotte looked toward the sounds, guilt-ridden for not helping to stop the madness. But she couldn't just leave him.

"Shut up!" The two women told him.

"Gods, I could use a cigarette."

Charlotte glared at him.

"I don't think smoking right now would be wise, Sir." Mimosa smiled at him diplomatically, but Charlotte could see the strain on the young woman's face. 

Yami sagged as his knees began to give out, and Charlotte could feel his exhaustion, his weariness through the vines entwined within his body. He had been standing since she had apparently bound him with her briars and impaled him. She remembered little of it, except the raw emotion as he kissed her and the shock on his face as she pushed the whispering voice away and woke up for good.

"Is there any way we can lay him down?" Charlotte asked, noticing the blood seeping from the wound as his weight pressed down onto the stalk in his gut.

"It would be easier if we did."

Charlotte tried to use her magic to build a cot of sorts and tilt him backward without further damaging him. He winced in pain with the motion before passing out again.

Mimosa frowned and Charlotte felt panic rise in her throat once more.

"He's not...?" She fought to keep the hysterics from her voice.

"No. I guess the pain was too much. How in the world did you do this?"

Charlotte wondered herself. Her corpse hunting briars were powerful, useful and deadly, but she did not possess a spell nearly this sophisticated in terms of control. She had never needed one.

"I didn't."

Mimosa looked at her, confused and then shocked as she saw the fading markings on her cheeks and the pointed ears still peaking out slightly from her hair which had started to come loose in the fighting.

"I... I see." She shifted away from the older woman slightly.

"She's gone. The one who did this." Charlotte wondered if it was true, if she had indeed excised the demon who had possessed her. She brushed his brow with her free hand, the one that was not connected to him. The muscles there yielded to her touch as his face relaxed. 

"He destroyed her. Well, that's not entirely true. We both did." She decided it was best to believe the spirit was gone. She could not imagine losing control of herself again. Charlotte looked at him as longing and guilt, desire and shame warred within. She felt the tears flow hot on her cheeks once more, but she no longer cared who saw. 

"Please don't leave me." She whispered, stroking his cheek.

"I don't know how much more I can do. I'm keeping him stable, but he needs a real, dedicated healing mage. But until we can get him to one, I will keep doing what I can."

Charlotte's heart raced at the thought. She wondered who, if any healing mages were still alive, who might have turned, and how they might come across such salvation rooted to where they were.

"Owen." His deep whisper startled her. When she looked at him, he still seemed to be sleeping.

"I thought you had passed out again." Charlotte brushed her hand over his forehead. The corner of his mouth twitched up in an attempted smile.

"Hurts too much."

"Owen is probably at the castle." She looked up at the large building rising above the city. Even at the distance, she could see parts of the edifice flickering orange with fire. "I wonder if Julius is alright."

"He's dead." The whisper was bitter and sad. The two women froze at the news. "William killed him."

"William?" Charlotte could not keep the shock from her voice. True, she had suspected William was involved somehow in the madness. They all had to some extent or another—Yami especially. But for William to have murdered Julius, his mentor, his friend? Charlotte could hardly believe it. She looked at Mimosa as the young woman pulled her hands away from healing Yami to wipe a tear from her face. The young woman's face had blanched white but was otherwise a mask.

"William but not William." Yami labored for breath. "He was like you, but..."

"Like me?" Charlotte asked. "You're not making sense."

"I think he means Captain Vangence had... turned." Mimosa said quietly. Yami's face was screwed up in pain as he nodded. 

Charlotte hated to think of what she might have done while her consciousness was sleeping. She brushed Yami's hair back from his head, wishing she too could lay down, but she did not want to risk moving the stalk which joined them to each other, for fear of hurting him further. She tried to remember what had happened, but the only thing which came to mind was the flash of light and then Yami's kiss. She leaned over him and kissed his forehead.

"Sounds like the fighting's getting closer." Mimosa interrupted. When Charlotte looked up at her, the young woman was blushing and had turned away.

"Sorry." She muttered before listening to the sounds of battle. Mimosa was right, she thought. She was amazed the battle was still raging so violently in the distance, when their little section of the world had seemed to go completely still. But Charlotte could not trust herself, not when she had no memory of how she even got to the capital. Her sense of time was also likely to be skewed.

And then she sensed it.

A bolt of... something flew at them, targeting Mimosa, but it was too late. She would never be able to stop the magic attack before it struck the young woman. And if she died, well, Charlotte couldn't think about that.

She still reacted, trying to build a shield between the invisible assailant and the young woman, but she knew she would be too late.

A flash of silver and black cut the air, and the attack dissipated into nothingness. The clatter of metal on stone echoed in the stillness.

Yami's head had turned toward the source of the attack; his eyes searching the distance. Charlotte tried to follow his gaze, but she could see nothing. She reached out for the source of the mana she had felt in the attack, but the air seemed to shimmer with the energy of a multitude of magical attacks and beings. She could not make sense of it.

"Charlotte." His voice seemed stronger, clearer than before, though it was still filled with pain. "How far out can you spread your briars?" His eyes had fixated on something in the shadows between two ruined buildings.

"I, well, I almost covered an entire town. You know, you were there."

He smiled, not the brief twitches he had managed earlier, but lingering smirks which were as much a part of him as the cigarette which usually dangled from his lip.

"Yeah. Can you set up a ring around us some distance away and then spread out from there?"

"Of course, but not while we're tethered. The control needed is immense. I can't do that while I'm trying to keep these in check, while also keeping you, well, plugged for lack of a better word."

He considered their options for a moment.

"Can you hit the shadows there, then? Now, even being attached?"

She sent out her briars into the darkness he had fixed his gaze upon, slithering down the alleyway.

"Anything?" He asked as the briars reached for the darkness.

"No. Nothing."

"Dammit." he muttered, wincing as he tried to crane his neck around, searching further. “Must've moved.”

"Please be still, Captain." Mimosa's voice was harsh and demanding despite the politeness of her words.

He laid his head back and looked up at the sky as it blackened with smoke and clouds.

"Can you cut the tether?"

Charlotte looked at him in shock. She could tell he was itching to fight since Mimosa's effort had stopped him from bleeding mana, but he seemed to forget he was bleeding actual blood. The thought of cutting the vines joining them had crossed her mind, but she had no idea what might happen. She shook her head. Tiny red blossoms dotted the thick stalk erupting from her hand, and Charlotte fought to keep them in check.

"It might kill you to do so. These seem different somehow. I don't know if the briars will dissipate or not. If they do..."

He grunted in response.

"You can try pulling the vines out slowly. Maybe if it's slow enough, my magic can keep up with healing him."

"How slowly are we talking about?" He lifted his head again. Charlotte forced it back to the makeshift cot.

"Probably too slow for you, Sir." Mimosa admitted sadly.

The sounds of fighting grew ever louder.

"Charlotte, you need to try then."

"Try what? I told you I can't build a wall without both hands."

"Then we are all going to die when the fighting gets here." He looked at her, his eyes hardened and sad as they glanced at her belly. "All of us." He stressed. She rubbed her free hand over her gut. "Surpass your limits, Love." He reached out and brushed the back of the hand on her belly. "You can do it. I trust you."

Charlotte took a deep breath and released it in a long, shaky exhale. She nodded, but could not shake the fear. She had tried to keep the thoughts of the child she carried from her mind. She had too many other concerns at the moment, too many other fears to handle. Thoughts of their child only fed those fears further. She feared hurting him more; She feared having to live without him. She feared their child never knowing him as much as she feared losing the child in the conflict.

As she hesitated, she felt the fear intensify as the fighting grew closer. She glanced at him once more, only to see him once more tracking something she could not see. She took another deep breath, trying to calm her fears. He believed she could do what needed to be done. He was asking her to trust him, as he had so many years ago. And she did trust him, right? She thought she had learned to do so many years ago. But now, she was no longer sure if she trusted herself. Not with everything happening.

She shook her head, clearing it of the self-doubt creeping into her thoughts. Of course, she could figure this out. She was Charlotte Roselei, Magic Knight Captain. She could do this. She summoned her grimoire and searched for the right spell. She only took a moment to find something which might work. The spell wasn't perfect, but she could adjust. She had to, or he was right, she realized as the sounds of fighting grew ever closer. She closed her eyes, visualizing how exactly she wanted to spread her web of roses. He had asked if she could leave a clear spot in the center, like a wall surrounding them. She built from there and spread out, unleashing her power to the fullest. She was surprised at how much magical power she had to release. Must be remnants of the spirit's power, she thought. She filled the area they occupied with a maze of thorns. She had laid similar traps before--some intentional, some not--but she had always been free then to do as she wished. Now, her control was put to the test as she had to encourage growth on the one hand, but restrict it on the other. As a swell of pride filled her, she was struck with darkness once more.

The darkness which passed through her now was not like the sweet darkness which had enveloped her like a blanket and lulled her to sleep with its warmth and deception. The darkness which hit her now was cold, unforgiving, and black as a starless night. She gasped at the feel of it spreading through her body and out into the vines she had used to protect them. The cold darkness was not comforting like the warmth before, but it energized her in a sense, like the extra pep one got from taking a walk on a cool morning. As the feeling passed through her into the briar carpet, the blue rose buds scattered throughout its length grew in size and darkened to a near black. The color reminded her of the blue rose he had given her months ago.

As the fighting broke through into the square they occupied, the roses bloomed. Magic attacks were sucked into their black depths, creating a shield of darkness around them.

"Hope that holds." His voice was weak once more as his mana coursed through her into the vines beyond. He passed out cold once more.

"Oh no." Mimosa muttered as her own mana flared in an effort to stabilize him once more. Flashes of magic--fire, water, lightning and more flared outside the barrier and then disappeared as the crazed possessed individuals tried to push their way through. The dark barrier flickered once, twice, and then faded under the onslaught.

Charlotte's eyes grew wide as the magical attacks started to break through the maze of thorns. She pushed the inner wall around them higher and matted the vines more. The walls of thorns nearly blotted out the sun. Charlotte flinched with every sound of magic crashing against the wall. She placed her hand against her forehead and closed her eyes. She felt dizzy and weak from the effort expended to keep the three of them safe while also keeping the briars within Yami from growing further. She needed to sit, to rest, but she could not. The briars connecting them were different somehow, imbued with the spiteful spirit which had possessed her. Her normal briars would dissipate if she severed their connection, leaving his wound gaping and bleeding. Sure she would be able to move and fight, but at what cost. Assuming these strange briars behave as they should, she thought. She could feel them yearning to move forward, to claim their victim. Every time her attention was pulled away from him, she could feel a surge in their desire. They wanted blood--his blood, and she would not let them have it. 

She would die first.

But the effort to keep him alive, the focus, now split, was draining. She could feel her own mana waning, along with the power boost she had from the presence which had possessed her. And she did not know what would happen when it gave out.

She looked at the briar walls enclosing them. The roses studding the vines were brilliant blue, with no sign of the darkness he had passed through her to them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was starting to fall asleep while editing, so please forgive. I tried to get it all. Let me know if there's anything wonky though.


	4. Ch 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the band gets back together... sort of.

The sounds of fighting echoed through Charlotte's ears as she braced the barrier surrounding Yami, Mimosa, and herself. Yami's breathing rattled as she coaxed the briars embedded within him too quickly in her effort to reinforce the wall of thorns around them.

But she knew she would fail soon. It was only a matter of time before her mana was depleated. And when that happened, she knew they would not survive long.

Not with the pressure of the possessed already pushing in on them.

The sound was deafening and occupied nearly all of her mind, forcing her thoughts to one thing alone--survival.

But a sudden crash and the sound of falling buildings silenced the magical blasts which had dulled her senses until they were as blunt as a smooth river stone.

The attacks broke off as the possessed gained a new target.

"They must think we've been softened up enough to be an easy target later." Charlotte said aloud, to no one in particular.

"Hopefully, whoever drew them off can stop them before then." Mimosa's voice and face showed the strain of her efforts. Charlotte knew the young woman was doing all she could to keep Yami alive, even going so far as to break one of the cardinal rules of healing magic--never draw on more magic than you can channel, and always pull from the environment. Such rules were necessary to keep the healer from becoming the one who needed healing. Mimosa was now pushing her limit as she drew from her own personal mana as well as the mana surrounding them. "Is there anyway you can start pulling the vines out? Just a little bit?"

Charlotte tried to shift her focus back to Yami, drawing the thorned vines back within herself. As she did, she could feel the wall protecting them weaken.

"No. Not without compromising the wall.

Mimosa nodded before releasing a frustrated breath.

A voice cut through the barrier, as clear as a cloudless sky.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" The voice asked through the matted thorns. The scrap of stone on stone nearby grated on Charlotte's nerves, making her grit her teeth.

"Asta?" Mimosa said with a mixture of relief and curiosity.

"Mimosa?" The voice was louder than Charlotte thought possible, but then she had also heard the young Black Bull before. The young man was never one for subtlety or silence.

"Are they still out there? Did you get them all?"

The pause seemed to drag on forever.

"Uh, yeah? I think so?" He seemed uncertain through the thicket.

"Think so, or know so?" Charlotte asked, feeling her mana weakening by the second.

"Yeah, we did. We got them all." The young man's voice was more confident as he further assessed the situation. "Do you need help getting out?"

Charlotte and Mimosa breathed a collective sigh as Charlotte pulled the mana supporting the briar wall. The structure collapsed, fading into the mana from which it had come and disapated on the wind. Charlotte sagged from the effort of protecting them. Her vision blurred and she knew she was going to pass out.

"Yami!" Several voices chorused. She could not see who the voices belonged too. She could feel the possessed vines tethering them together, jumping eagerly as she faded. She could feel herself start falling but strong hands caught her. They reminded her of his hands, only smaller and less sure about touching her. She heard voices but could not make out what they were saying as blackness overtook her.

Someone shoved something into her mouth. She chewed it instinctively. Whatever it was, it was delicious and she felt immediately better, more focused. She looked around, as alert as she had been when the madness had begun. Mimosa was explaining what had happened as best she could.

"I've been able to keep him stable, but without a specialist, I'm not sure what more I can do. And then the attack started, and..." She rambled as she spoke with her mouth full. A short young woman--who looked too young to be a magic knight, yet wore a Black Bulls robe around her shoulders--kept shoving small bites of food into Mimosa's mouth. Charlotte thought the dark haired girl looked familiar, but then realized she must have been present when she had spilled the news to his squad. As the food was shoved into her mouth, the glow of Mimosa's magic seemed to become brighter, stronger. Charlotte knew the young healer was on the verge of collapse herself, but she had not realized how close she had come.

"He needs a doctor." Charlotte said with a level of confidence she did not entirely feel. Those surrounding her were his friends, his family, and she was certain they would have questions. Several pairs of eyes stared at her accusingly, like she had hurt their brother or father. She had always known the Black Bulls were different, and fiercely loyal, but until she stood before them, tendrils of her magic penetrating their captain's torso, she had never understood just how loyal they were.

"The only thing keeping you alive right now is his child inside you." Vanessa spat. The venom in her voice struck Charlotte like a blow.

"A doctor?" Asta asked, scratching his head. "We found Mister Owen a little ways away. He's unconscious now, but... Well, the Captain trusts him at least. Wait? Child? What are you talking about?" He looked from Vanessa to Charlotte and back.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows at the short, spunky boy. She thought everyone knew.

"Go get the doctor. The other questions can wait until later." Charlotte commanded. Vanessa narrowed her eyes at Charlotte before turning to Asta and nodding. Magna and Luck took off back the way they had come after tossing a quick nod to the women. Neither noticed their departure over the glares they exchanged.

The few minutes waiting dragged on for years in silence. Charlotte had been bolstered by the food the short, child-like woman had given her, and kept trying to give her. The rest of the Black Bulls sat on the ground nearby in a quiet conference, but the pink-haired woman kept glaring at Charlotte.

She was still tired. She could feel the exhaustion deep within her bones. She knew she was nearing her limit. Yami had told her to break through it before. She wondered if she could do so again. The magic power flowing through her moved easily, but it was thin and fluid, like water, when it was usually much more viscous, like honey. The food had somehow replenished her mana, but keeping the vines within him from growing was proving to be a monumental task. Her entire being was focused on the task. She stared at his face in an effort to avoid the other woman's glares. Her control over the vines was so taxing she did not notice when the doctor arrived.

"We couldn't get him to wake up, so we carried him." Luck said.

"We? I think you mean "I" carried him." Magna retorted as he settled the unconscious old man onto the ground.

Luck shrugged.

"Mimosa? Can you do something?" Asta asked after he tried tapping the older man's face several times.

Mimosa made an uncertain sound, reluctant to leave her patient.

"It's going to be fine." Charlotte's calm voice reassured the young princess. "You said yourself, he needed someone more experienced than you. I will try to double my efforts and keep him safe." Charlotte tried to smile, but the feel of it was strange on her lips given their surroundings.

"Right."

The green glow which had clung to Yami like a second skin faded as Mimosa turned her magic to the doctor. Charlotte took the time to brush her free fingers over his forehead and through his hair. She could feel the other woman's eyes burning into her, but Charlotte did not care as she leaned toward him, whispering.

"I am so sorry." She could feel the weakness returning, the guilt, the shame. "Owen's here. Once they wake him, he'll fix you right up. So you just hang in there, Yami, okay?"

Waking the doctor took nearly as long as bring him to the market where they were all gathered. The short child-woman forced yet another sweet onto Charlotte.

"Thank you." Charlotte said around the food in her mouth. At least she thought it sort of sounded like 'Thank you'. It had been what she intended to say. "Where are you getting these?"

"My sheep make them." The child-woman pointed to a large sheep manning a cooking station.

Charlotte swallowed the last of the cake like substance in her mouth, feeling a warmth spreading through her as the magic within her was once again propped up.

"Is it making my magic stronger?" Charlotte asked, to which the child-woman nodded.

"I have a stronger spell too that can completely restore your mana, but it takes a great deal out of me to use it."

Charlotte nodded. She had a couple of spells herself which would exhaust her completely with one use. Neither of them were in spells she used often, because of their effect on her own mana.

The young woman looked at Charlotte's hand and the vines tethering her to Yami. She looked at her captain.

"Do you think he will be alright?" She asked.

Charlotte thought her voice sounded older, more mature than her appearance.

"I hope so."

"He was the only one to believe in me, to see something of value. Even more than my parents. Most people couldn't see past my compulsion." The young woman's voice was soft and nearly inaudible.

"He believed in me too, that I could learn something I never thought possible, something I had never allowed myself to do."

"He's good at that, at making people do the impossible." She stuffed another bite of food into Charlotte's mouth.

"What's going on?" The frantic cry came from nearby. Charlotte turned to the sound and saw Julius' doctor sitting up, looking around disoriented. "Where am I?"

"Mister Owen, we need your help." Asta knelt next to the doctor and placed his hand on the old man's shoulder. "You were possessed, but you're better now." The doctor's face was plastered with fear, but Asta continued. "I know you're probably not in the best place right now, and I hate to ask, but Captain Yami needs your help."

"Yami?" Even from the distance between them, Charlotte could see the furrow in his brow as he tried to grasp hold of the situation. His eyes grew wide when he saw the two captains bound together. Charlotte wondered if his healing instincts kicked in as he scurried from where he sat on the ground to where Yami lay on the bed of briars she had constructed.

"Shit, Yami, what happened?" He looked over at Charlotte and she flinched under the gaze of the old man.

"I, um, I didn't mean to. She wouldn't let go without hurting us first." The words sounded crazy to her as she said them. No one would believe it was anyone but her, not when the magic was so clearly hers binding them together. But he smiled at her sadly, like he knew exactly what she was talking about, like he understood.

"I've been trying to keep him alive, and I had an idea on how to heal him, but with the fighting, I wasn't able to implement it." Mimosa said from his side as he used his magic to scan Yami and assess the damage.

"Cripes. Charlotte, I didn't know you were able to do anything quite like this. I bet it takes a tremendous amount of control." He looked at the wound and traced the paths of the vines winding their way through Yami's body. "Julius would freak out if he were here."

Charlotte felt her heart raced as she and Mimosa exchanged glances. No one else knew, she realized.

"The Wizard King is dead." Mimosa whispered. Charlotte felt her mind slip at the thought and the vines within him leaping forward. She gasped as they pushed ever closer to his vital organs, his lungs and heart.

"Charlotte?" Owen said in a panic, though she could not be certain if the sound in his voice was from the news Mimosa had shared or the tendrils creeping further through Yami. She decided it was probably the latter.

"I'm not doing it. In fact, it's taking all my focus to keep them from growing."

The young child-like woman looked at the group huddled around her captain. She took a small bit of food, opened Yami's mouth and stuck it inside. She worked his jaw, and Yami coughed, and then swallowed. The two healers watched her skeptically.

"What are you doing?" Owen asked, the blue glow of his magic surrounding Yami's body and mingling with the green of Mimosa's magic.

"Helping." She answered.

"She apparently can restore mana with her food." Mimosa added as Yami's eyes fluttered.

"I thought I was gonna die." he croaked. He tried to sit up but only managed to lift his head. "Ow, still might."

"What sort of insanity have you gotten yourself into this time, son?" Owen asked, shaking his head. Yami tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace before he coughed once more.

"Stay down, Yami or I swear I will tie you down." Charlotte pressed his head down once more. Yami raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"I didn't think you'd say things like that in public."

Charlotte blushed at the insinuation.

"It's for your own good, Idiot." She sputtered.

Owen chuckled.

"We had to restrain him when I reattached his arm that one time. Damn fool was awake for the whole thing too." He sighed. "Fixing this, though." Owen shook his head and his face turned grim.

"Is it possible?" Charlotte could feel her voice crack as she asked. She looked at his squad, his family gathered around them. Each of their faces were anxious and scared.

"It's going to be a very delicate process, withdrawing the vines while simultaneously knitting his tissues back together. It's going to take time. Lots of time. I don't know if I can do it alone. You can withdraw them, Charlotte, can't you?"

Charlotte nodded. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead as she willed the vines back, further from his vital spots. Pulling them back to her reminded her of the dogs her father had kept when she was little. Like the dogs dragging her by their leashes, the vines strained against her control, seeking their own desires. She grunted as she wrestled control of them and pulled them a miniscule fraction backward. Yami cried out in pain as she did so.

"Fuck, Woman, what are you trying to do to me? It feels like you're trying to rip my insides out."

"Yes, but it is difficult." She glanced at her lover as his face contorted from the pain. She chose to ignore his words. To respond would have taken too much effort and would likely have put her back where she started.

"Good, good." The doctor closed his eyes, letting the mana filling the air flow through him, transmuting it into his magic's blue glow and stitching together the unseen wounds. "This is going to take forever. Can you hold it, Charlotte?"

She nodded, her eyes closed in an effort to stay focused.

"Good, Mimosa, see what you can do to fill in the punctures in the blood vessels near his heart, while I work on this lung." Owen directed them like a general directs a battle. He glanced around at the other Black Bulls watching. "The rest of you should go and help the citizens." He looked pointedly at Asta. "Especially you."

Yami tried to sit up again, only to be pushed down by Charlotte once more.

"I need to talk to them." Shallow breaths made his voice sound weak, but the strength in his eyes had not wavered.

"You need to rest, Yami." Owen ordered, with a sigh, knowing the stubborn man would never listen to him. "I wish we were able to do this in the hospital." He muttered. "This is going to be one hell of a field patch up job."

"We could try to move him." Mimosa suggested. "If it's that important."

"With them attached, he's not stable enough to move. And I'm assuming you can't detach."

"I don't know if I can control the vines if we were to cut them. They may simply vanish altogether."

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good."

Charlotte felt the pressure of something against her lips. As she looked down, the child-like woman held a fork up to her and mimed an opened mouth.

"Need to keep your mana up." she said as Charlotte chewed. She nodded before she moved on to Mimosa. Charlotte felt a rush of mana.

"Bring them back again, just a bit." Owen ordered.

And she was able to do so more easily.

"I really wish we could just get everything out instead of this step by step process." Owen complained.

"What do you mean? Mimosa asked as she chewed.

"In the hospital, I have a magic item to fill wounds. I don't know how well it would work on wounds like this, but it would be enough to fill the larger gaps. Then we could rebuild as we saw the greatest need, consuming the item."

The pink haired woman who had stormed out of the room upon learning of the pregnancy stepped up to the foot of the makeshift bed.

"My thread magic may be able to do that."

Owen stopped and glanced quickly at her.

"What are you waiting for, then. Can you follow the tract laid by the vines?"

"I think so." A small reddish cat took the opportunity to leap onto the cot of thorns and meowed before headbutting Yami's leg.

"Get that thing off." Owen demanded. The cat leapt up to Vanessa's shoulder as she began guiding her threads through Yami's body, twisting them tightly around the thorns and winding their way toward the careful knitting of tissue where two healing magics converged.

"Okay, this might work." Owen grabbed hold of the thread with his magic. "Now pack it in as densely as you can." As the material filled the tiny wounds, some as thin as capillaries as they threaded their way through Yami's body, Owen nodded and sighed with a sense of relief. "Mimosa, can you coax the tissues to build upon the threads?"

"I can try."

"You will. We are beyond the point of trying."

"Yes, Sir." The teen nodded, her voice betraying her nerves.

"Now, what was your name again?"

"Vanessa."

"Ok, Vanessa, I want you to fill in the gaps as Charlotte withdraws. It's going to take some precision timing, ladies."

Charlotte turned to the other woman and her eyes met the slightly violet eyes of the woman she had taken as her rival for Yami's heart. The only other times she had seen the woman this close was during their drinking contest--Vanessa had already been drunk and Charlotte was quite the teetotaler, and again when Yami had tried to break the news to his squad. And then again today when the Bulls had stumbled upon them and Vanessa's anger had led to her threat. Charlotte had believed her then--that Vanessa would have tried to kill her had she not been pregnant with the child of the man they both loved. Charlotte was certain of it now, seeing the desperation in her blue-purple eyes.

"I'll follow your lead, Captain." Vanessa's voice held none of the malice from earlier. They shared a goal now; one they would both see through to the end, and one they both prayed would have a positive outcome.

Charlotte nodded, and withdrew the vines. She slowly shrank them and pulled them into themselves, careful to avoid any further damage. She glanced at Vanessa, who's brow had knit together with the effort of filling the voids left behind.

"You good?" Charlotte asked, hoping for confirmation before she pulled back further. Vanessa nodded, and Charlotte began her retreat once more, a little more quickly.

"Yeah, got it. Charmy? How about some of that magic restoring grub, huh?" Vanessa called out as Yami inhaled sharply from the pain.

"Try not to drag so much, Love." Yami coughed, but this time, under the careful ministrations of Owen and Mimosa, the cough was bloodless. Charlotte noticed Vanessa frown at the statement.

"Sorry." Charlotte murmured before pulling the tendrils further out as carefully as she could.

"It's not the little ones, as much as the big one." Yami closed his eyes and tried to relax. Charlotte noticed what he meant. She had been twisting her hand slightly as she worked the fine fibrous vines free. The thorns on the main stalk, which she had been so careful to shrink to nothingness on those parts buried deep within him, sliced through his flesh with each slight adjustment of her hand. She vowed to herself she would keep still.

"Things would be a lot easier if you would just pass out again, you damn stubborn bastard." Owen quipped as he focused his magic on the next most dangerous wound buried deep within the patient.

"And miss these two working together? Never."

"Go to sleep, you idiot." Charlotte scolded and Vanessa rolled her eyes. The pair continued the push and pull of replacing the vines with threads as the healers rebuilt Yami's tissues over the threads. The process was like a dance and the women quickly found a rhythm through which they could speed up the process. Far sooner than she though possible, Charlotte pulled the offending briars from her lover. She cried out in relief, but her joy quickly turned to panic as the vines leapt forward once more, trying to bury themselves into his gut again. She pulled them back, away from him and snapped their connection to her. Without her mana sustaining them, the offending plant matter disapated into the air, returning to the mana from which it came.

"I can't believe this is working. How are you feeling?" Owen asked Yami as the last of the vines.

"I am feeling very relieved Charlotte didn't sever the stalk while we were connected." He gazed at the air where the briars had disappeared into nothingness. "Fuck, I woulda died!"

"That is the typical result, yes." Owen muttered. Charlotte stared at her hand as it trembled. The appendage felt foreign to her, as if it still possessed some fraction of the spirit which had taken her over. She had never used her briars in such a way before; she had never been so connected to them, or so controlled. She felt under its spell even now as she felt her energy drain from her and all pretenses fall away as memories rushed through her mind. The tears started to shed uncontrollably.

"Charlotte." He said her name in his peculiar way--a hold-over of the accent he had mostly lost over the years. Every time she heard it, she got chills. She could not help but look at him, though she did not want to. She did not want to let him see her tears, her uncertainty, her weakness, but she could not ignore him either.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered through the tears streaming down her face. The look on his face said everything at once. His eyes told her not to cry; the curve in his lips showed her his worry. She reached out and brushed his cheek, first with the hand which had been free, and then with the hand she still felt was an impostor. She cupped his face between her hands. His skin was rough against her fingers. "I'm sorry."

"Shh. Don't be. It wasn't you. You know that." He said with a softness she was certain only she had ever heard before.

"But."

"It's over now." He nodded with the finality of his statement. "I'm going to be fine. You'll see."

"The others." Her voice cracked beneath the weight of what she had done while under the spirit's control.

"Nothing to be done now." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Now is not the time for grief." He pressed a hand against hers and squeezed her fingers. "For anyone." She could see the unshed tears in his own eyes. "Now, we need to survive."

Charlotte closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his.

"I love you." He whispered and her tears fell onto his cheeks.

"I love you, too." She said back as he hand moved from her hand to her cheek. His fingers wrapped around the base of her skull and his thumb stroked her cheek as she kissed him. "Where are we going to go from here?"

"We'll figure that out once the madness stops." He kissed her back, softly, quickly. "Now, I need you to do me a favor. Go keep an eye on my idiots."

She found herself smiling despite her tears.

"You mean your family?"

"Idiots, family, same difference."

She looked into his eyes where she could see the concern for those still out fighting, and the love for those who followed him.

"Of course."

"Take care of them, Charlotte. Take care of all of them."

"Yami, you're talking like..."

He kissed her.

"I love you forever, till the end."

When she opened her eyes again, he was smiling.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. Now, go, and take care."

She looked at him for a moment longer before she nodded.

"Forever till the end, right?" She asked, reluctant to leave, afraid of what might happen if she did.

"Yeah. Trust me."

She straightened and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She squeezed his hand once more before turning toward the sounds of battle. She strode towards the loudest of noises and the screaming and yelling which echoed off of the walls of the buildings. She refused to look back, feigning confidence in those to whom she left her lover's safety. She knew Owen was the best healer in the kingdom. Furthermore, Yami trusted him. Therefore, she would as well. The young Vermilion girl had proved quite skilled as well, and Charlotte was confident she would do all she could to help.

Yami watched her walk away, her long hair whipping in the breeze, before turning to Owen.

"Tell me the truth, Doc." His brown eyes were hard as he looked at the doctor.

"This isn't like reattaching an arm, Son. Is it going to be long and difficult? Hell yes. Is it impossible? I don't know." Owen told him as he continued working through the healing process. "You will probably be out of commission for a while even if this patch up works."

Yami nodded and closed his eyes.

"If anyone can do it, Old Man, you can."

Owen chuckled.

"So you finally did it, huh?"

Yami's eyes flew opened.

"What do you mean?"

"You finally got over yourself when it came to Charlotte. It's been what, ten years?"

"Shut up, Old Man."

As Vanessa finished packing the wound with her magical threads, she watched the banter between her captain and the doctor trying to save his life. She noticed the uncharasteric coloring of Yami's face as the doctor teased him.

"Ten years since what?" She asked, suddenly curious.

"Since he fell in love with her." Owen said before directing Mimosa to begin knitting together another area of the wound. "After the Battle of Shalen was when I first noticed. He was in the hospital because the idiot had gotten his arm ripped off."

Yami chuckled.

"And Charlotte was there for some minor mending--a broken leg, I think. I had never seen anyone who was as in love as he was, or who was so sad about. Mimosa, no, over there."

"Sorry." The young woman adjusted her position and went back to work.

"Anyway, he wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, much less to anyone else. It wasn't until six months later that Julius was able to weasel it out of him. By that time, though, he had broken the curse. I don't think he realized it at the time, but she had fallen for him as well."

"She's pregnant." Vanessa blurted out.

Owen raised his eyebrows.

"Well, isn't that something."


	5. Chapter 5

Things had gone from bad to worse once Yami had left and Nozel had his hands full trying to keep track of things. Reports continued to stream in from various locations around the kingdom before falling ominously silent. Never came word of victory or success. Only silence. Nozel tried to muster what troops he could, but everyone was either running scared or... He didn't allow himself to finish the thought. Fortunately, Noelle, though ordered by her captain to help with the city's defense, had stayed by his side. As much as he found her presence annoying, today was not a typical day, and having family by his side--even useless family, gave him some comfort. 

Or it did until he heard Nebra's panicked voice through the communication lines. 

"Brother? Brother if you can hear this, get home right away. Something's, something's going on and I don't, I don't know what or how to stop it."

Nozel rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. Neither Nebra nor Solid had qualified for the Royal Knights, and the injuries Solid had sustained in his defeat (Though Nozel admitted it was his pride which had been most grievously injured), may yet keep him from the battlefield. Nozel needed to be with his family, but he could not leave. Not when everything everywhere was falling apart. 

Royals may be the most important people in the kingdom, the most powerful, but what good are royals with nothing to rule over? He thought. He clenched his jaw as he looked around the room. His eyes fell on Noelle, standing stoically near one of the communication ports assisting the mages there as best she could. Surely she has heard the request from her sister, and yet, Nozel noticed, she did not seem fazed in the least. 

Could he leave command to her as incapable and more importantly, as inexperienced as she was? Could he trust her with the guardianship of their family? 

He knew she had had a difficult time growing up. He had been a part of those difficulties, not so much because he actively participated in them, but because he stood by and did nothing. He had neglected her as he took on the role of head of the house and Silver Eagle Captain upon the passing of their mother. He simply had not had time for her.  
Nozel took a deep breath and tried to relax his hands as they squeezed tightly into the wooden arms of the chair from which he oversaw the room. 

"Noelle." He called after a moment of consideration. The young woman looked back at him with wide violet eyes set in a face which looked so much like their mother's it disoriented him at times. "You heard the call. Go to the palace, protect your family." 

She looked at him and then at the floor as if she were weighing her options on an invisible scale. He could see the indecision on her face. Eventually, after far too many seconds for Nozel's taste, she nodded and took off sprinting out of the room. Nozel rubbed the bridge of his nose again, hoping he had made the right call. He thought about calling up a squad of city guards to help Noelle but realized how poorly it would be looked on by the nobility when all of this was over. 

If they survived anyway.

He would have to trust Noelle to do what he could not abandon the city to do for himself.

More and more lines of communication went silent.

More and more cities and towns fell.

And more and more, Nozel felt the crushing weight of command bearing down on him.

He had not wished for his mother's presence in nearly ten years, but he wished for her now. He could use her expertise, her skill, her prowess. But mostly, he could use her advice.

"Sir, we have reports of a large floating rock?" The young mage furrowed her brow in confusion. "Whatever it is, it's coming this way." 

Nozel cursed under his breath. The most powerful of the elven forces were traveling within the floating structure. For them to be headed to the capital was not good news. 

"They must be targeting something within the city. Have all available forces close in on the upper tiers, and keep an eye out for any changes in direction or focus." Nozel ordered, cursing under his breath with a few of the choice words he had picked up from Yami in his youth. He looked over the table turned map through a spell by one of the staff and ordered him to zoom in on the capital. The material--small rocks and sand--shifted at a word from the entire kingdom--scared in black where villages and towns had been presumably obliterated--to the city which dominated the noble zone. Even within the map, Nozel could see how the city was under siege, how the path the elves had cut through arched every toward the heart of the kingdom. Everything seemed to converge on one point--the palace. 

And he had just sent the one person whose abilities he barely trusted to defend it. 

Nozel gripped the table's edge as he watched the large rock in miniature slowly creep closer. He knew it had been a simple lucky draw which had allowed him to arrive back more quickly than the floating fortress was able to fly. But now he felt as if the weight of that flying stone were pressing down on him, crushing him.

"Send what forces you have to the palace." He straightened. "We must protect the king."

"What about the people, Sir?"

Nozel slammed his fist into the tabletop shaking the image of the city like some angry god creating earthquakes for the mere mortals below. He needed to stay, but he needed to go. His duty was to the people, and his duty was to the king. Yet he was but one person and he could not choose between either option. 

"You really should let me treat you in the hospital." An angry voice shouted in frustration as Yami pushed his way, limping through the door. Blood soaked his shirt, or what was left of it, and he held his hand over a wound in his gut.

"I'm fine, Owen."

"Like hell you are. Need I remind you that you were impaled just a little while ago?" The doctor trailed behind Yami as he dragged his way across the room and landed heavily in one of the chairs. Owen shook his head at his obstinate charge.

"Hey, Braidface, how are things? Shitty all over?" Yami's words were slurred and his eyes were slightly unfocused. He looked as pale and weak as Nozel had ever seen him. As Nozel looked at him, he noticed the substantial hole now plugged with what looked like thread and cotton glowing a faint green. The Vermillion girl, he saw, stood behind the foreigner, her grimoire out supporting her magic as she sustained him. 

"I, uh, that looks serious. Are you sure you should be here?" Nozel could not stop looking at the wound which occasionally oozed blood into the surrounding fabric of his shirt and turned the material filling the hole red.

"Where else would I be? They will likely take the hospital before I could do anything about it, so better to be where I can do the most good." Yami's gaze was drawn to the real-time map. "What's that?" He pointed at the model of the floating rock.

"The elves, or their leaders anyway. They seem to be converging on the palace."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"Well, what are you still doing here, Birdman? Go take care of your family."

"But," Nozel started to protest. He wanted to do as Yami bid. Nearly every fiber in this being demanded him, as a royal, to defend the royal houses. And yet he hesitated.

"I'll take care of things here, looking after all the things you royals never think about. Go, Nozel."

Nozel looked at Yami for one last moment. The man seemed nearly dead on his feet and Nozel was not sure if he could survive the day. But then, he also remembered seeing Yami nearly lose an arm and keep fighting until he passed out from shock. He had survived that, Nozel thought, perhaps he would survive this as well. As Nozel bolted out of the door in a most undignified fashion unbefitting of a royal, he wondered exactly how Yami had gotten such a wound. He made a note to ask him later--if they made it out alive.

*

By the time Vanessa had caught up with the rest of the black bulls, the squad was in heavy conflict with several of the possessed. The spirits within the bodies of former comrades yammered on about how humans were going to fall, or how the elves were so much better than everyone. Vanessa wanted to use her threads to string them up and slice them to ribbons. Rouge bounced between her feet and from team member to team member, guarding them, protecting them from the worst possible fate. 

Fighting alongside her friends, her family, Vanessa saw the blond woman from earlier. The Blue Rose Captain had taken the field, not only with impressive magic as her vines spread through the ground, ensnaring the enemy long enough for Asta to attack with his anti-magic, resurrection breaking blade. She also barked orders at the squad. Even from the distance, and even through her jealousy, Vanessa had to admit the woman was impressive in her skill on the battlefield. 

As a magic arrow flew at the woman who had stolen her captain's heart and who had nearly been his undoing, Vanessa felt the familiar sense of panic rise as she saw the fate which would come to pass should the arrow hit. Rouge reacted as she gasped, tapping the woman, changing her fate as her body twisted ever so slightly as the arrow slipped past, barely grazing her. Vanessa joined the fray, sending out threads to catapult Asta from one location to another as the young man whirled in the airs to strike down those standing against them. Luck's lightning crackled as he dodged attack after attack, diving between blasts of fire sent out by Magna. Gray used her magic transformation to convert the vines to lightning, shocking those ensnared within them as Charmy continued to provide sustenance. 

The blond woman glanced back at her, taking her attention from the battle for a moment. She fell back slightly to where Vanessa pulled on her threads to help Asta navigate the battlefield with speed greater than his body would allow. As Luck nearly collided with one of Magna's fireballs, Charlotte noticed Vanessa wave her hands and pull back on his trajectory, allowing the blast to sail past the young man harmlessly. 

"Are you doing this?" Charlotte yelled over the din of battle and Asta's screaming. Vanessa nodded.

"Are you sure you should be out here?" Vanessa yelled back, her eyes flicking down to Charlotte's midsection. "It's a bit dangerous, isn't it?"

Charlotte smirked in a way which reminded Vanessa of Yami.

"Where else would I be?" Charlotte flicked her wrist and her vine whip narrowed into the solid edge of a blade as she fended off an attacker who broke through the flurry of attacks being laid down by Asta, Luck, and Magna. Thorn vines shot out from the sword as she thrust but missed. The vines found their mark and encased the elf in a mass of thorns. 

"Maybe somewhere that wouldn't risk so much? I mean, Yami may not show it much, but he's really excited to be a dad." Another flick of the wrist, another leap of the cat, and another fatal blow avoided. 

"If we fail, it won't matter where I am, because what will happen will rob him of the opportunity." Charlotte sent more vines out through the battlefield. "Now!" she shouted, signaling Gray to perform her transformation spell. The field of thorns turned to a field of barbed wire and steel bars, entrapping the elves more tightly than the fragile thorns ever could.

"What exactly is going to happen if we fail?" Vanessa asked as she jerked on the threads once more. "This would be so much easier if Finral were here..." she muttered to herself.

"Doomsday." Charlotte's face was grim as she probed the memories of the spirit which had so recently died within her. She could still feel some memories, some emotions, but she knew they were not her own. She could feel power too, a sense of mana unlike she had ever known before. But she knew, deep in her being, if they failed to stop these beings, they were all doomed. 

Vanessa orchestrated part of the battle, as much as she could, but Asta and Luck kept getting ahead of her, moving barely beyond her reach. They pushed further and further toward a large object in the distance.

"There. Our target is there. That's where they are." Asta's voice cut through the din of battle as they continued to fend off the attackers, capturing who they could and forcing the others to flee. Asta had let the darkness consume him once more, streaking through the fight toward the most powerful foes--straight to the large rock floating in the distance. 

"Stay together!" Charlotte shouted, hoping to solidify their position. She watched the seemingly impossible vessel as it cut a path through the sky. Vanessa saw the other woman's eyes narrow in concentration. "This way!" She shouted, moving through the narrow streets of the city, cutting a path as diagonal as possible. "They are heading for the palace. Go!"

Vanessa followed the command without question, only to wonder why she had done so in her trek through the city. She picked her way through the narrow alleys and broad thoroughfares, careful to avoid the bodies of the fallen on the way. And the bodies littered the streets. All seemed human enough to her, though she hadn't seen many elves up close enough to know their distinguishing characteristics. As they ran toward the palace, Vanessa saw Charlotte stop at a door.

"There's movement inside." Charlotte held her whip at the ready. "Hello?" 

"If they were elves, wouldn't they have attacked us already?" Vanessa looked at Charlotte, who stood ready to attack but watched the window looking ever like a cat ready to pounce. The thorn maiden stood straighter and relaxed her shoulders ever so slightly. 

"Are you safe in there? Anyone injured?" She called. Vanessa could see the tension in the way she gripped her whip even if she had been careful to keep the fear from her voice. A meek voice answered though Vanessa could not make out what was said. Charlotte's frown indicated the same.

"You are safe. The Magic Knights have swept this area and have cleared the threat. Come out." Charlotte's voice was commanding and cold, but it was also effective. A young woman poked her head out of the door. Vanessa thought she could not have been much older than Noelle. Her green eyes were wide with terror. Hidden in her skirts was a younger boy who seemed as old as Charmy looked. 

"Are they really gone?" The young woman stuttered as she pushed a dirty blond hair from her eyes.

Vanessa saw Charlotte's face soften at the young woman's fear. 

"For now. And soon, forever." Charlotte's eyes flicked to the ground and Vanessa could hear the unspoken addition of 'I hope'. "Is there anyone else in there with you two? Anyone who can fight?"

The young woman shook her head. 

"There's our grandma, but she's ill. Using magic is hard for her now." 

"You have your grimoire, I see. What can you do?" 

"Me? I just work in a shop. I'm a tailor's assistant; I can't fight." The young woman folded her arms across her chest and looked at the ground. Vanessa could see her shaking in fear.

"What's your name?" Charlotte pressed. 

"Rachel."

"Well, Rachel, the tailor's assistant, I'm sure there are many things you can do and even more things you can think of that can help. You know stitches, right?"

The woman nodded.

"Well, it's safe now. See if you can help. Is he your brother?" Charlotte glanced at the younger boy hiding behind her. She continued when Rachel nodded. "You two can go search for wounded. Stitch them up if you can. Bring them here if they can travel and keep them safe."

"But I'm so bad at it." Rachel started to complain.

"Even a poorly stitched wound is better than an open one," Charlotte said, smiling at the young woman. "It could mean the difference between keeping a limb or losing it. It could save someone's life who otherwise might have no chance." Charlotte touched Rachel's shoulder and the younger woman stood a little straighter and squared her shoulders. 

Rachel nodded to the knight captain. She ducked back into the darkness of the room briefly before reappearing once more with a basket on her arm and her brother in tow. 

"You removed her fear?" Vanessa asked as they watched the young pair hesitantly, but with growing confidence, make their way through the bodies hunting for survivors.   
Charlotte shook her head.

"No, I didn't. I helped her see a purpose greater than her fear. Sometimes, knowing there is something bigger than ourselves, something we can do is enough to push through the fear." Charlotte watched them a moment before turning back toward the fight. "Come on. Let's go."

Vanessa watched for a moment longer. 

Are all Captains born talking about stuff like that, she thought, or do they learn to do so because they are Captains?

Vanessa sighed and turned to follow Charlotte back into battle.

*

Yami hated sitting around feeling useless. Even though he was doing what he could to help them mount a defense against the elves, he still hated doing what he felt was nothing. Ironic, since so many times all he seemed to do was nothing. But now he felt like he should be doing something. Sitting on the sidelines, calling the shots was not the place for him. He twitched at being kept from the action. His entire body vibrated with pent up energy as he watched the entire world going to hell. He wondered if Nozel had felt the same. 

The royal always seemed to be as cool as ice, almost too cold at times. 

He shifted in his seat and immediately regretted the decision. Everything hurt. The pain was a blatant reminder of what had happened and why he was no longer in the fight. He grimaced as much from it as his inability to do anything. 

"Owen, you should go back out there. I'm sure there are others who need you more than me." He said through clenched teeth as the old doctor hovered at his side. He felt the cool tendrils of the doctor's magic replace the warmth of Mimosa's plant-based healing spells. He groaned in frustration.

"And have you start doing things you shouldn't after we've all worked so hard to save your worthless life? I think not. Mimosa, thank you for your help. You are a great field medic." 

The young woman sputtered at the sudden praise.

"Reports that the floating fortress is headed toward the palace, Sir." One of the communication mages shouted through the room. The girl beside him gasped and he could feel her ki shift in fear. He glanced at the red hair so prevalent in her family. How could an entire family have people so different, he wondered as he compared the timid young woman to her feisty cousin.

"Go. They'll need you." He ordered and she scurried away. He looked back at the spell which laid the entire city bare. "I should be out there."

"You should be in the hospital." Owen reminded.

"Looks like the palace is their main target. Everything else was just mayhem." Yami sighed in frustration and then groaned in pain as he tried to cross his arms over his chest. 

"What's in there that is so important to them? I thought they were after revenge?"

*

Too late.

He had been too late, Nozel realized as he ran through the main hall of the Silva family home. He had hoped Noelle would have gotten there in time, but it seemed as if she had missed much of the conflict as well. He had only been a few moments behind her, but she had disappeared into the depths of the building. 

He heard a scream echo through the marble walls. Someone was still alive, still fighting. He ran toward the sound. The shriek came again and this time he could make out more. Someone had called out his sister's name. Something had happened to Nebra. Nozel knew his two middle siblings were at the palatial estate. Solid was still recovering from his wounded pride, and Nebra was likely with him. He wondered if Noelle had found them and if she was protecting them. He hated to admit it, but he had grown to recognize the strength of the youngest child his mother bore. He had seen her grow so much since she left the family home, and he was almost proud of her. 

But he knew his siblings had never made life easy for her. He wondered if she would take advantage of the situation to get back at them. The fear she would do so built as he passed through the debris and corpses strewn along the hallways as he made his way to his brother's room. 

He should have known better.

Noelle was standing strong against the attacker, her face defiant, her wand at the ready. Nebra was sprawled along the floor, blood seeping from multiple wounds and Solid cradled her head, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him. The attacker struck out at Noelle, sending a strange sort of needle streaking toward her. In the same moment, Noelle unleashed a counterattack. Nozel, from the doorway, saw her pivot so the careening bolt missed her narrowly, but she had misjudged, or the bolt had veered. Nozel wondered if the elf had complete control over the projectiles.

A gasping cry echoed through the room. The elf's face twisted upward in a demented, vengeful smile. Nozel's heart fell to the pit of his stomach. Noelle's eyes widened in disbelief.

The giant needle had buried itself into the floor next to Nebra's lifeless body after cutting a path through Solid's chest. Nozel's eyes widened at the scene before narrowing at the elf who had launched the projectile. Solid whimpered a couple of times before he too grew still. 

"Two down; Two to go." The intruder turned to Noelle and readied another attack as large needles appeared out of the mana which filled the air. As they flew toward the shame of the Silva family, Nozel found himself reacting. The thin spears stopped in midair as his own magic captured them in silvery fluid and dragging them to the ground. The next attack was aimed at him. He shifted, dodging just enough, but too slowly to avoid being hit entirely. He glanced at the defect, the unnecessary one, his sister, Noelle. He caught her eye and saw her lips set in grim determination. He could feel the mana in the room shift and grow more oppressive as the elf readied another attack. The weight of it brought him to his knee as he struggled with the blinding pain in his arm. He pulled the javelin-like needle from his arm and watched as it dissipated into the mana from which it came. He could feel the rivulets of blood running down his arm as the mana field pressed ever downward upon him. He looked at the elf in their pristine golden robe, a mana wind circling around them as they cast the spell affecting the very air. He tried to rise up, to stand against this foe as a royal should, as a Magic Knight should, as he should. He tried to enhance his mana skin to overcome the oppression of the field created by the elf, but the pain in his arm destroyed his concentration.

Nozel looked over to where Noelle had stood, expecting to see her collapsed to the floor beneath the oppressive weight, but what he saw instead was a vision of his mother standing strong.

Her silver hair fluttered in a mana wind of her own as her body was wrapped in water instead of steel, but the face was the same.

Mother? He mouthed the word as his brain fought to reconcile the vision with what he knew to be the truth. His mother was long dead, but her legacy had awoken.

"Noelle." His voice sounded weak and strained, but it was enough to catch her attention. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

She regarded him with her violet eyes and a small smile graced her lips. At the moment, he thought, she was the spitting image of the woman who had given them both life. She nodded once before she moved to attack. 

Free from the scrutiny of the elf, Nozel inched his way to where his other two siblings lay in an ever-expanding pool of thick red blood. Nebra stared out--glassy-eyed--into nothingness. She was a lost cause, gone before he had even arrived. Solid whimpered weakly. The fear in his face froze Nozel to the core. 

"Brother?" Solid's whisper was like a shout through the battle still raging between the elven mage and the girl who was now his instrument of vengeance. "It hurts, Brother."

"Shh." Nozel pushed the silver strands of hair back from Solid's forehead. He cursed his magic for having no penchant for healing. He had been too late to save Nebra, but if he had a healing spell, he might be able to save Solid. 

Solid coughed, splattering Nozel's chest with bloody spittle. Blood soaked through to his skin as he knelt next to his brother, still impaled on the needle, still hovering over their fallen sister. The fight raged around them like a frantic dance. Noelle ducked and twisted through the air as the elf narrowly missed her with each strike. Solid tracked her movement as best he could; Nozel saw everything from the corner of his eye. 

"Mother?" Solid whispered, his eyes growing unfocused. "No, not mother." His voice was thin and raspy. "Nozel?" The word was a struggle on his lips as his breath grew more labored and his waning faculties split between breathing, talking and watching the vision before him dancing through the air in a deadly waltz. "Tell her, I'm sorry. I was, I was wrong."

Nozel watched as the young man's face grew slack and the light faded from his eyes. His heart screamed at the injustice of seeing his younger brother's life flee before him. He was the captain, He was the eldest. He was the one responsible for the care of the family. And he had failed. His insides felt heavy and burned as if they were filled with molten steel.

But Nozel did not let the pain fracture his cool exterior. The time for mourning would come later, or not at all. He looked back once at his fallen siblings before turning his sights to the one who remained. Stepping into the fray, Nozel felt the gravity of the situation cast upon the kingdom as a whole more keenly than he ever would have imagined. He felt the futility of the overwhelming force he faced pressing, weighing upon him. He could give up. It would be easy. Kneel, and allow himself to be swallowed by the darkness closing in on them all. 

Noelle dancing tirelessly, swirling through the air. As she narrowly avoided each strike he paused. In each of her movements, he saw her struggle, the hell she was put through, and the grit and determination she had found deep within to overcome. With each twist and near miss, he could see the firm set to her eyes. She would not give up; she never had, not even when a lesser person would have accepted their lot as their fate. She was no longer their mother's weak mistake. No, he told himself, as he watched her dancing through the battlefield as their mother had so often done, she never was weak. 

Nozel took a deep breath before he joining the battle once more.

***

The fighting had reached the palace. The elves were inching their way closer, ever closer to their goal. But Yami for the life of him, could not figure out what that goal was. He knew they elves had some vendetta against the royals of the kingdom. Their leader had told him as much--though he knew now that the leader then was never the true leader. He wanted to kill the man, the elf which had killed Julius and had hijacked the body of his fellow. While he had never fully trusted William, not like he trusted his idiots or Julius, hell, not even like he trusted Jack, William had always seemed like a decent guy. But from what he saw when the possessed captain had thrust his blade of light through Julius' gut, William had long ago given himself over to the spirit within. 

And in doing so, he doomed Julius and maybe them all.

And Yami wanted to kill him.

He clenched the arms of the chair to which he had been confined. His eyes darted around the frantic command center as the soft blue glow of Owen's healing magic surrounded him. The old man was still muttering about something or other, but Yami could pay him no mind. The floating fortress had passed through the innermost walls of the city and entered the noble districts. The palace was within attack distance from the fortress. So was the building from which he was trying to mount their defenses if Yami was being honest.

"If that thing has offensive capabilities, we're done for," Marx muttered from nearby. Yami pressed his lips together into a thin line. 

"We haven't seen it start shooting yet." Yami could hear the tension in his voice. He tried to not think of the possibility that the elves had been holding out on them so far. He prayed, to the gods of this kingdom and to the spirits of his homeland, for any sort of break or guidance in this ever more hopeless situation.

The sudden darkness enveloping the castle was not what he expected.

"What is that?" Marx peered at the cloud of black on the scale model representing the city before them. The cloud solidified into a shape--a shadow version of the building it had devoured. A shining light emitted from the darkness, reminding him of a portal.

"I have no idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this has taken so long to get out. This story is rather heavy, which can be difficult to write when I'm being pulled every which way with other stories and with real life. 
> 
> Rest assured, I do plan on finishing this and the rest of the series, but I cannot specify when that will happen.


	6. Chapter 6

 Blackness had erupted in the distance, enshrouding the palace. Yami could see the ominous form on the magically summoned model of the city. He could also see the pinpoints of light representing his friends, his comrades, his family, moving toward it, toward the fighting, which had only intensified around the dark shape. He squeezed the arms of the chair in which he sat, feeling impotent with his injuries. He knew the battlefield was no place for him, not now, not in this condition, but his helplessness made him squirm, which only made Owen cluck in disapproval. 

Still, Yami thought he should do something if he could. And his instincts told him the solidified darkness was the key. 

"Send all of our forces toward the palace. We need to know what that is." He pointed at the dark shape. He watched as the mage tracking the changes in topography screwed up his face in concentration, a deep frown on his lips.

"I can't see what's inside, Sir." The mage's voice was tense, strained.

Yami took in a deep breath and sighed. 

"Marx, get Charlotte." He stared at the dark spot on the table, leaning forward as much as his wounds would allow. He wanted to get right up on the image, to see if he could get some sense of something, anything that would help them.

The Wizard King's aide blinked a couple of times as he looked at Yami as if he barely understood the command. A look from Yami spurred him into action. 

"Right. Of course." 

In a few short moments, Charlotte's face shimmered before him. She seemed distracted, though he could understand why and did not blame her in the least. 

"Do you see it?" He asked, sparing them both any unnecessary pleasantries.

"Yeah." Her face was stoic. She hid her fear well, he thought. She always had. She turned her head toward something Yami could not see in the projection. 

"Any ideas?" 

"The portal is still open. If we can get inside..." She didn't finish the thought; she didn't have to. Yami had wondered if she would recognize the danger. He should have known better than to worry. He shifted again as a shooting pain spread through his body. 

"Charlotte,  you do what must be done. I trust you, just be careful."

She gave him a sad smile, her face shimmering as blue as the roses which grew from her magic.

"I love you."

"Yeah." 

the image cut out and Yami sat back once more, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair. 

***

Charlotte led the charge through the portal but unfortunately had to leave some of Yami's squad behind to cover their backs. Elves were closing in, defending the entrance to the shadow palace and trying to block their approach. Several of the Black Bulls had volunteered to stay behind. The witch with the threads, Vanessa if Charlotte recalled correctly, had insisted they would all be fine as long as she was there to protect them, but Charlotte was still worried. Vanessa's fate magic was powerful, useful, and might very much be needed within. Yet she had insisted on guarding the people. Nozel had caught up to them, as had the youngest of the Silva clan and a couple of Vermillion maniacs. 

Charlotte blinked in surprise to see a spirit accompanying Fuegoleon and to see his wound not so much healed as accommodated for.

"I feel sinister energy coming from that... thing." Nozel said, looking up at the shadowy mass.

"Whatever it is, can't be good." Fuegoleon agreed.

"Let's go kick the ass of whoever did this." Mereoleona cracked her knuckles and sneered at the darkness, before grabbing Asta and hurling him toward the shrinking portal. 

"Why did you bring the peasant?" Nozel raised his eyebrow at the lioness.

"If there is a head honcho responsible for all this, and one who can stop it all, he's going to be inside, and the little shit's anti-magic might be the only thing able to convince them to stop."

"We can't let them finish what they started." Charlotte summoned a swirl of briars and took off to the portal.  
Several others followed suit, leaving the majority of the Black Bulls assisting the mage corp members arriving to defend the people.

***

Yami watched as Charlotte's mana presence disappeared from the map. 

"They're gone." 

Yami wanted to punch Marx for the comment, but he knew it wouldn't help, and would only make Owen restrain him if he tried. He sighed instead and stared at the black spot on the magical map which now encapsulated everyone he held dear. His skin ran cold and his hands shook. He felt a wave of nausea and he didn't know if he was going into shock or if he was just too worried. 

"Take deep, slow breaths," Owen warned from his shoulder, but Yami could only feel panic as he thought about what might happen inside the darkness. 

"I hate being cut off."

"You hate being kept out of the fight." Owen corrected. "Not that I blame you, not with Charlotte being..."

Yami shot him a look of warning.

"Charlotte being what?" Marx asked from Yami's other side. 

Yami rubbed his eyes. The stress of the day was already too much for him. He didn't have the energy to fight to keep their secret. 

"Charlotte's pregnant."

Despite the constant dull pain, Yami could feel the shift in the aide's ki. 

"Well, that's certainly interesting." Marx has somehow managed to keep his voice from showing his surprise. 

"And unfortunate," Owen added as he placed a hand on Yami's shoulder. "She'll be fine."

"Yeah. She's the strongest person I know." Yami smiled. "Must be why I fell for her."

***

Charlotte found herself alone once they had crossed the threshold of darkness that wasn't darkness. What had seemed like a great black void when they had approached had been a cacophony of light and sound once they had entered it. And now she found herself alone in what looked like a corridor. The walls reminded her of the dungeons she had delved into as a young member of the Blue Rose Knights—pale stone walls, rough in texture, cracking in places, but otherwise well kept and a marvel of engineering. But the mana permeating the place was different, more intense and sinister somehow. She tried to focus, to find the pinpoints of mana which were her comrades, but she felt blinded as if she had stared at the sun and was now trying to discern shapes through the light.

"Hello?" she called out to the air around her. Only her own voice answered her, distant, faint as it echoed down the hallway. She closed her eyes, trying to hone in on any recognizable source of mana among the flood she felt washing over her senses. She had heard Yami mention something called ki before, in passing anyway, as a way to ascertain one's surroundings without the use of mana. She wished now she had asked him about it when she had had the chance. 

"Guess I'll just have to figure it out as I go. Or ask him later." She began to pick her way through the rubble which marked her landing point. "If there is a later." 

She picked a direction and moved forward trying to stretch out with her senses. She could detect a glimmer of more highly concentrated mana in the direction she traveled. She moved toward it, sight unseen and too mana-blind to know if it was friend or foe. But as she moved, she started recalling memories of this place, as if she had walked these halls before. The glimmer grew more distinct as she walked toward it, though it did not grow more familiar. If anything it seemed more alien now than it had when she had first detected it. 

The glimmer of mana, and the being creating it, did not seem unfamiliar, however, even though the mana itself felt like nothing she had experienced before. 

She stepped into a room. The ceiling of the narrow hallway flew away into a high domed vault. And on the floor, sprawled on the stone, lay a person. The clothing was familiar—he wore the robe of the Golden Dawn, she could tell that much from the entrance. The face seemed familiar too, though she could not place it. The man did not stir at her approach. He was either unconscious or...

"Why would they kill one of their own?" She knelt next to the man, noting the distinct point to his ears and the deep colored markings on his face--blood red against his pale skin. She touched his forehead; he was still warm but he did not respond to her. As she watched, his chest expanded slightly before falling, once, twice.  The breaths were shallow and spaced too far. Charlotte examined him, looking for noticeable injuries, but could find no obvious wounds, no signs of blood loss. But she could tell as his breathing grew weaker and weaker, he would die without the help of healing magic. 

"It's like something cursed him... or..." 

She stretched out her senses once more and the sense of mana was clear—or at least more clear than it had been. She could feel various strong mana nexuses in the distance, but one spot, in particular, made her shudder. The mana she sensed felt sick, twisted somehow. Unnatural. Her lip curled in disgust and she felt sick to her stomach. She looked back at the man over whom she had crouched. Her comrades were too far away to help him. She touched his forehead and muttered a prayer of safe passage though she was not certain if it was for the dying man at her feet or for herself. 

Charlotte stood and steeled herself before stepping over the man and striding purposefully toward the twisted, unnatural mana ahead.

The room she entered held far more than just the sickening mana she had sensed. The feeling had so overwhelmed her, though, she had not been able to sense the others, despite knowing they all had extensive stores of mana. Well, all but one. 

The group of magic knights—two Golden Dawns, including the rising star it seemed, as well as Yami's 'No-Magic brat' were facing off against a creature the likes of which she had never seen with her eyes. She had only imagined beings like the one before her now in her nightmares. A pair of the others—possessed as she had been, she wondered--also stood to confront the demon as best the could. One of them, the one she had fought in the cave, had fallen, though he still tried to stand. The Golden Dawn girl was also there. She had helped save Yami's life after... Charlotte shook her head at the memory. She knew it had only happened at most hours ago, but it already felt like a lifetime had passed since then. She rushed over to the fallen copy mage and began healing him. Charlotte wondered where she had found the mana to keep going. 

Charlotte felt herself on the verge of collapse as she watched the dark sickening creature move to attack the knights and elves arrayed against him. The spell his Yami's boy, but he used his anti-magic sword to deflect it into a wall. The stone crumbled --no disintegrated-- where the spell had struck. Charlotte could see nothing but swirling darkness beyond the room. 

The room filled up with a swelling gust of wind accompanied by a blinding light. She had to cover her eyes as she looked for the creature she had dubbed the enemy. The presence had moved closer to the trio standing resolutely against it, but they stood their ground, fending off the attacks as they came. Charlotte watched the interplay as the battle raged on. 

They needed help. 

The trio, despite their efforts, inched further and further away, closer and closer to the wall. The being was closer now and a wave of nausea hit Charlotte hard. She could not control the vomiting, though she tried to hold back. 

"Charla!" a strange, yet somehow familiar voice said during battle. The voice was strained, pleading and came out of a face whose eyes were wide with fear. The name he yelled, directed at her, was also familiar, buried deep in the recesses of memory to where she had pushed the other mind.

"I'm Charlotte." She answered between the coughing and retching, as much to convince herself as to tell the other of his mistake. She had never felt so sick, not ever, despite others having complained about morning sickness with their pregnancies. 

The darkness moved closer, filling the room and she steeled herself, fighting through the topsy-turvy feeling in her belly. The child within was still too small for her to feel, but her womb tightened in a way which brought the entire situation to the forefront of her mind.

She would fight to protect this child; she would fight to live. Her grimoire sprang to life and she pulled her briar whip from it. The vines solidified into a blade studded with blue roses, but the blade itself held a core of darkness she had never felt within her magic before. Unlike the presence in the room, however, the darkness she felt pulsing within her own magic was warm, soothing. It reminded her of the cave and Yami's kiss. And she knew he was fighting with her, through her, somehow. 

She charged in, moving close quarters with the young man Yami had called his 'no-magic brat'. 

"Captain Charlotte!" The boy called out, slicing through the air with his large blade. Charlotte gasped as he cut through the arc of the sludge powered by darkness reaching out for her. She echoed his cut with a slice or two of her own. She sighed, relieved that this new power coursing through her was able to react to the otherworldly forces pushing back at them.

"I've never seen your magic work like that before, Captain Charlotte."  

Charlotte was amazed the boy could take the time to talk in a fight like this. She was amazed still that he had seen through the subtleties of her magic to notice the difference. She had not noticed the difference until this moment. She sliced and hacked with her sword as if it were a machete. Her movements lacked the finesse with which she usually fought. She could feel the darkness reaching, seeping into her, attacking her magic at its core. 

"Don't let it touch you." She warned the boy as another fighter joined the fray. He too was wielding a sword, a black blade like the boy had. His white hair and sad face seemed familiar—once again like a memory of a dream from the being who had controlled her body until recently. 

"It can't hurt him." The newcomer's voice was gentle yet firm, so similar to Julius when he had to actually focus o the job. "He's... different." His clear eyes met hers briefly before turning back to the fight. "But you... you fight with another."

As swing of her sword and a glance toward him. Wind gusted around them, and light erupted from all sides. Magic trying to push back the creeping darkness before it turned into a surge. 

"What are you talking about? Who are you?" She had a sense of familiarity with the man, no, elf, she told herself. The other spirit who had taken control of her knew him, respected him. Despite what she had done to Yami, Charlotte felt compassion for the spirit which had died within her. The vague sense of loss she felt, the understanding of the bleakness of the situation, she had because of the spirit, because of Charla. She could never forgive the spirit for what had happened to Yami, for the threat against their child... 

The child... 

Charlotte pulled back from the conflict just a moment as panic rushed over her. She focused her magic detection abilities on to herself and tried to block out the overwhelming despair pushing in on her from all sides. The tiny knot of mana within her belly shone strongly. She had been able to feel it as distinct from herself for the last few days. Now she could feel it working instinctively to save itself, to save her. The child's mana blended with her own, having taken the cue, she guessed from the incident earlier where Yami used her magic as a corridor for his own. She could feel the darkness of it, the warm, comforting darkness spinning with her own, cutting through the sickening negative mana, just as it dissolved her own. 

She fell back to where the young Golden Dawn ingenue had adopted his blended form and stood desperately trying to use his winds to push back the vileness spreading through the chamber. He too had the appearance of an elf—pointed ears and facial markings, yet unlike the others, she did not recognize him. 

"This isn't working." The dark-haired young man said, his voice cool but strained. 

"We have to keep trying." The white-haired elf on his other side answered as he peppered the mass with arrows of light. 

Charlotte tried to ignore the goings on around her and touch the energy within. The small knot of mana pulsated. She could now sense Yami's mana within it, as well as her own. The elf had said she did not fight alone. She could feel her lover bolstering her from within. His magic was well suited against the otherworldly adversary. She would have to tap into it somehow, through this connection they had made. The elf spirit who had controlled her had opened her eyes to so many possibilities, to the threads of mana which connected them all. 

She took a deep breath, surprised at how it came out shaking as she connected through the threads. The mana flowed through the barrier separating them from the world outside, connecting her to him through the life of their child. 

"I'm sorry." She let the tears she had held back through the fight start to flow as she grabbed hold of his mana and pulled it into the fight.

***

Yami watched the events unfolding in the streets and sighed in relief as slowly, but certainly, the magic knights and the royal guards regained control of the situation. Elves were defeated, either fallen in battle or taken prisoner as the human forces gained the upper hand. 

But his relief was short lived as he felt a shot through his heart. He touched his chest out of instinct but could feel no wound, no blood, at least nothing that hadn't already been there. He turned his attention back to the black mass blocking off part of the city. A wave of dread washed over him. Something had happened.

The sense of Charlotte's mana brushed him as if she were somehow reaching out through the darkness for him. He could not feel her ki, but she had managed to break the opacity of the barrier, at least for a moment. He wanted to know what was going on to make her reach for him. He could not tell what she was feeling. Was she scared or hurt? Yami's heart raced at the thought.

A streak of light erupted on the map model, coming in from the distance and heading straight to the barrier of darkness. 

"What is that?" Marx asked as both of their attention zeroed in on the new arrival. 

Yami shook his head. He felt a pull or a tug in his chest. 

He closed his eyes and succumbed to the force pulling him away.

"Oh, Shit!" Owen's voice echoed in his ears as his head lolled to the side and he lost consciousness.

***

Charlotte felt Yami's magic flow through her as she pulled. She channeled it through her sword, hoping against all odds she would be able to replicate even half of his skill. The sickle of dark magic arched through the air, striking the mass squarely. The boy—was Asta his name? Close enough--spun quickly to look at her wide-eyed for a moment before he returned to the offensive. 

The mass was overwhelming them, pushing them back toward the wall. Some of the otherworldly material had scarred the elves, yet Asta remained unscathed, moving through the tendrils like they were water. 

A brilliant light broke through like a lightning strike and pierced the mass. Part of it dissolved when the light touched it. When the light faded and she could see once more without blinking, three more individuals stood in the room—a young man and woman, and a creature which could only be described as a devil. The new arrivals faced off against each other. The elves, but not the one with the black hair, the unfamiliar one, clustered near the couple the beam of light had deposited in their midst. Asta rushed to her side.

"That was Captain Yami's magic. I know it."

"I..." She looked in his wide green eyes, trying to find the words to explain what had happened, though she wasn't exactly sure what had happened herself. She hadn't even fully expected it to work, but it had and now she felt drained, weak. She watched as the new arrivals, along with the elves, were fighting to stop the malicious being. "It was, but I..." She shook her head. Her knees gave out from underneath her and she fell to the ground.

Or she would have had the young man not used his body as a crutch for her and gently lowered her to a sitting position. 

"Nothing should be able to get through the barrier." The dark-haired elf boy said from her other side. He looked at her with thoughtful golden eyes before glancing down at her belly. 

Charlotte nodded. She wasn't sure how, but it had happened.

"I think the child served as a link between us, between these two worlds." She placed her hand on her belly. She wished she could feel the movements of the developing being within her. She could barely feel its mana now. Charlotte's heart raced with worry and new fear.

"Wait, child?" Asta looked from her to the dark-haired elf boy. "What child? Yuno?"

"Not my child." The dark haired boy—must be Yuno--looked back to the ongoing battle. 

"I know it's not your child, but, if you're..." He waved his hands, flustered, uncertain of what to say to get his point across. "Why are you even here?"

"Because Yami couldn't be and because if we don't stop this, there will be no future for our child."

Charlotte could see the gears turning behind the green eyes of the young man as he worked through the twists and turns of events.

"Asta, we need to stop this thing." Yuno's voice was firm, calm, and collected. His voice reminded her of her own at times. But his voice also seemed very distant.

"We can't just leave her." Asta's voice seemed far away as well, and Charlotte felt her vision going black. 

Too much, it had all been too much.

She waved for them to go back to the fight, wanting to tell them to stop the coming doom, to win at all costs for their own sake, and for the sake of the child she carried, and for all children to have a future. 

But her voice would not come as the blackness took her.

***

A soft blue light surrounded him when Yami opened his eyes. He knew he had been sitting up last he remembered, but now he lay prone, on his back. He looked up to the ceiling through the pale light at the stones fitted neatly together arching above him. He tried to sit up, but his body would not respond.

"Don't make me restrain you." Owen's voice was amused as the older man moved into view. He had a smile on his face. "You're still healing."

"What happened? Why am I in the hospital?" Yami's voice cracked. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry.

"You passed out in the war room. Your body couldn't take what you were trying to put it through."

"I was just sitting."

"I mean the stress of... everything."

"I should get back there." Yami croaked as he tried to sit up once more. Owen's magic slithered around him, holding him down.

"There's nowhere to go. It's over. I don't know how, but minutes after you lost consciousness, the blackness faded. Everyone started coming to their senses and it was over."

"Oh."

"Anti-climatic, I know, but probably for the best. I don't think the city could have taken much more."

Yami tried to sit up again as he remembered what he had felt moments before he passed out. 

"Charlotte." Panic rose in his voice. He had felt her reaching out to him, asking for help. He had no idea how he had felt the connection with her, but he had. None of it was verbal, none of it was anything more than a vague feeling of worry and desperation. He had never denied her when she needed help and so he had given her what he could.

"She's fine. She's exhausted, but everyone is."

"Where is she?" He struggled to sit up.

"Dammit Yami, you need to rest. She needs to rest."

Yami glared up at Owen. The doctor sighed and released his binding spell. Yami regretted the movement as soon as he started to sit up. Everything ached and he felt far weaker than he had thought possible.

"You've lost a lot of blood and your mana was siphoned away during the fight. I'm not sure how, but it was and as far as I can tell, that's what made you pass out."

"I'm fine." he croaked. "Where's Charlotte?" 

A young healer held out a cup for him. Yami glared at the young man, who flinched under the intensity of the captain's gaze. 

"First, drink," Owen commanded with authority of his own. Yami tried to snatch the cup from the assistant, but his movements were sluggish and weak. When he took the cup, he found he could barely grip it in one hand. He grunted as he supported it with both hands and brought it to his lips.

"Your strength will return in time, Yami. You need to be patient." Owen flinched at the fire in the foreigner's dark eyes as Yami looked up at him.

"Don't make me ask again." His voice teetered on the edge of madness.

"She's in the other room. But you can't go in there."

"What?"

"No one can, not without the King's permission."

"What do you mean? Why? How long was I out, Owen?"

The doctor took a deep breath and grabbed a chair. He pulled the wooden seat to the side of Yami's bed. Once he was seated, he looked Yami square in the eye.

"She's been arrested. Everyone who turned into an elf has."

Yami gripped the sheet covering his legs in tight fists.

"Everyone?"

"Yes."

"What about you? I heard you had turned too."

Owen scoffed and looked down at his ankles. He moved his legs and Yami could hear the rattle of chains. 

"The only reason I'm not in prison is that I have a use. But I am under guard. The entire hospital is." He looked at the door.

Yami followed his gaze and noticed two royal guards standing beside the doorway, dark armor blending in with the dark stone walls.

"What the hell happened?" 

"Is he awake?" Marx poked his head around the doorway. The guards shifted stances to block entrance before noting the newcomer and allowing him to pass. "Ah, yes, good." Marx strode purposefully through the door to Yami's bedside.

"The King has been wanting to meet with you. He has been most... impatient regarding your recovery."

"Why the hell does the King want to meet with me?"

Marx blinked at him once and then twice. 

"Because you're the Wizard King."

"No."

"But Julius himself appointed you to the job. We have documents saying as much."

"But I don't want to be the Wizard King."

Marx crossed his arms over his chest and screwed up his face in thought. After a moment, he looked up at Yami once more.

"There are means of abdication from the job, but they will all take time. And time is one thing we don't have right now. The fighting might be over, but the country is now in survival mode. So much has been destroyed, or damaged, we will have months of rebuilding, and that is assuming the people don't start fighting among themselves. Resources are lacking and in our weakened state, the Diamond Kingdom has seen fit to start amassing soldiers on the border."

Yami laid back down and closed his eyes. Marx continued prattling on about the state of the nation, while Yami hoped sweet oblivion would take him once more.

"So we need a Wizard King. And Julius thought you would be the best person for the job."

"What about Nozel? Or Fuegoleon? Neither of them turned into elves and they're royalty. I'm sure the people would take to them better than me." He did not bother opening his eyes.

"No doubt you are right, but as I said, these things take time and we don't have that right now. So we're stuck in this situation, whether we like it or not."

Yami sighed.

"So what does the King want?"

"To discuss the trial arrangements for all of the traitors. His words, not mine." Marx was quick to point out. 

"Trial? He's going to put them all on trial?" Yami looked up at Marx and then over at Owen.

Marx shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He rubbed his hands along the front of his robe and chewed on his lip.

"The King... he, um, he wants them all executed."

Yami bolted upright, his eyes wide as he grabbed at Marx. He felt all color, all warmth—what little he had--drain from him as his blood ran cold. Executed? All of them? Hundreds, no thousands of citizens had turned in the event, and the King wanted them all dead? To brand them all traitors? For something over which they had no control?

"What?" he bellowed. Yami glanced at Owen and noticed Marx would not meet the doctor's eyes, not even in sympathy.

"I'm just the messenger, Yami. If you want to do something about it, you need to convince him." 

Yami forced himself out of the bed. He winced with each movement but pulled himself upright. Once on his feet, his head swam and he choked down a wave of nausea. He didn't like it. Not one bit. He had no idea why Julius would trust him with such a burden, but he would do what he could to make his mentor proud, to prove he hadn't made a mistake. And he would do what he must to keep the King from the path of insanity on which he seemed set.

"You're damned right I will."

Yami tried to walk confidently to the door but found himself stumbling. His legs were wobbly with disuse and his muscles were weak. Marx and Owen, both moved to help him as he teetered to one side and nearly fell, but he caught himself before going down completely. His rage, his worry gave him the strength his muscles currently lacked. He would indeed give the King a piece of his mind, and a piece of his magic and blade if need be, but first, he needed to see Charlotte. He needed to know she was alright, to see with his own eyes, to touch her with his own hands. He needed to know, too, how his squad, his family had fared in the chaos. He had every confidence in their abilities, but sometimes luck runs out and a single moment can shift the fate of the battle. 

"First, though, where's Charlotte?"

"You can't see her, Yami," Marx said. "She stands accused. She, like the others, is to see no one."

"I will kill you where you stand if you keep me from her."

"She's two floors down, in the third room on the left," Owen said from his seat on the chair. His eyes met Marx's for the first time since the aide's arrival. Yami looked at him and nodded, both in thanks for the information and appreciation for his defiance of the injustice facing them all.

He stormed down the stairs as much as his body allowed. People must have felt him approach because they all seemed to scurry from his path. But before he could reach the room where he had been told Charlotte was held, a voice called out to him.

"Captain?" 

Yami froze and turned slowly toward the chipper, lyrical voice. Wide blue eyes stared at him through a shimmering gold barrier. 

"Luck."

"Captain, do you know what's going on? The soldiers came and took me and Gauche, and a bunch of other people too. The others were just standing around confused after everything was over, but they ordered us to all go with them."

"What happened to the rest of the squad?"

Luck shrugged.

"They only asked Gauche and me to go with them. Do you know what's going to happen to us?"

Yami swallowed hard as he looked at Luck's trusting eyes. The young man had struggled to connect with the squad, with the new family he had been offered. Telling him would be difficult, Yami knew but denying him the knowledge would be akin to betrayal.

"I don't know much. I just woke up apparently. But from what I hear, there will be a trial. The King... He wants justice for the kingdom. He wants to speak with me about it, or so it seems. I'm not entirely sure what he thinks justice will look like, but the rumor is that he," Yami looked down at the ground. "He is open to execution as a possibility." 

The words tasted sour in his mouth. He could not, would not let the King take revenge against people who had no choice in their actions. Yami looked back to Luck's eyes, certain he would see the shock on the younger man's face. But Luck met him with the same innocent, cheerful expression he always wore.

"We did attack the kingdom's citizens."

"But you weren't you at the time." Yami countered, trying to build his argument against the King's decision.

"True. And yet, I have memories of doing it. The memories are like looking at an image in the newspaper, or like watching yourself in a dream, but I have them. I remember the anger, the hatred the other me felt. I have their knowledge of the subtleties of mana. I have their memories—of sorts. But they are distant, like I was an observer, but from far away."

Luck furrowed his brows together momentarily, as he thought.

"But those memories, those actions, they aren't yours."

Luck smiled. His cheerful disposition returned. 

"But someone has to take responsibility, don't they, Captain?"

Yami opened his mouth to argue. The spirits who possessed them were now gone, destroyed... somehow. One day, Yami vowed, he would find out exactly what happened. But with the spirits gone, he believed the responsible parties had been dealt with, they had received the consequences of their actions. Punishing the people who had merely served as hosts would do no good. He would tell the King as such and hope he listened. 

"I, I'll talk to you later, Luck. Once I know more."

Luck smiled as Yami nodded and turned down the hallway once more.

But would the King listen? Would he see reason? The question nagged at him as he approached the heavy wooden door where Owen had said Charlotte was being held. Unlike the room where Luck was imprisoned, a guard stood outside of the tightly closed and locked doorway. The man stood up straighter as Yami approached as if he were puffing up in an effort to intimidate. Yami scowled in return. 

"Open the door," Yami demanded.

"I have orders to..." 

"I don't give a fuck about your orders. I am, apparently, the acting Wizard King and I told you to open the damn door!" Yami's voice echoed off the stone walls. The guard shrunk back from sound and he fumbled with a ring of keys as he struggled to comply.

"Yami?" Charlotte's voice sounded small and muffled through the heavy wood. 

The door creaked opened and Yami pushed past the guard and into the small, dark room. Charlotte stood like a beacon in the darkness as he entered and embraced her. He pulled her tightly against him, relishing in the feel of her in his arms. 

"You're alright?" He looked down into her clear blue eyes. He caressed her face and ran his fingers through her loose hair. 

Charlotte nodded. 

"I'm alright. We're alright." She stressed and Yami felt an unrealized tension release from his shoulders as he pulled her into his arms once more. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. 

"I was told you were still too injured to walk." 

Yami squeezed her slightly, but as tightly as he could. 

"I'm fine."

"I put a hole in your chest and almost shredded you with my briars from the inside."

Yami chuckled.

"Yeah, that sucked."

"You should be dead."

"I don't kill easy."

Charlotte pulled away from him just enough to look into his eyes.

"No. You don't." 

She kissed him softly, linger near his lips for a moment, her eyes closed as she basked in his presence.

"But what are we going to do?" She settled her head against his chest once again.

Yami took a deep breath and kissed her on the top of her head. He was still wading through options, trying to see what possibilities lay before him. 

"I mean, I've heard the whispers, the talk of treason. I know what the penalty for treason is. I..."

"We'll figure it out. I promise you, we will."

She squeezed his waist, pressing her body against his briefly before rising up on her feet to kiss him again. This kiss was longer, sensual, but also scared. As he met her eyes once more, he could see the fear hiding behind the cool exterior. He had promised her they would figure it out. But he had no idea exactly how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope this doesn't seem too abrupt, but I don't feel as if spending time on the battle was important for the developments I want to explore. This is the last chapter of Crisis, but it is not the last part of the story, not by any stretch of the imagination.


End file.
